


Carrion Crown: Necromancer

by Isada



Series: Sexventures [2]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Five Nights at Freddy's, Hamilton - Miranda, Labyrinth (1986), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Original Work, Pathfinder (Roleplaying Game), The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: Adult theme park, Anal Sex, Anthropomorphic, BDSM, Blood Kink, Body Paint, Bondage, Bukkake, Crawling through giant vagina, Double Penetration, Dragon sex, Fucking a mountain, Furry, Gangbang, Ghost Sex, Humiliation, Interspecies Sex, Knotting, Monster sex, Multi, Multiple Penetration, Necrophilia, Oral Sex, Orgy, Other, Porn With Plot, Public Sex, Rim Job Centipede, Ritual Sex, Robot Sex, Self-cest, Sex Rollercoaster, Sex Toys, Sex circus, Size Difference, Songfic, Squirting, Stuck in a wall, Tentacle Sex, Urination, Vampires, Vines, Vore play, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-04-05 13:56:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 40
Words: 82,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14045709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isada/pseuds/Isada
Summary: Inspired by Pathfinder's Carrion Crown campaign comes a new campaign: an adult Alice in Wonderland/Spirited Away kinkfest odyssey set in Tian-Xia's Shenmen.Personal writing challenge: one sex-related scene per chapter ;)Arcs:Temple sex arc, Earth gate--stuck in a wall, sex circus arc, Wood gate--vine sex, Adult theme park arc, Water gate--water sex, Les Mis cabaret arc, Fire gate--smoke sex, Hamilton vampire theater arc, FNAF sidequest, Bone gate--orgy, Labyrinth arc, Metal gate--end





	1. May Not End Well

Chapter 1: May Not End Well (不得善终)

A fat orange sun set low and heavy over the village on the edge of the Mingdao Wood (冥道森林). A stark white light winked between the fields and the trees. Its lantern hung from the top of a blue tent, its light keeping the honored spirit of the funeral within from getting lost as it moved from this world to the next. The spirit’s body laid in an open coffin behind a rickety bamboo screen and its paint-chipped scene of heavenly delights. The kin of the deceased had painted the corpse in pitch and tar, the cheapest and least conspicuous way of keeping the body from rotting during the month-long vigil between death and the funeral. The daily and nightly rains of Shenmen (神門) didn’t wait for the living, much less the dead.

A priest in the blue and white robes of the Mother of Souls chanted in Tien into the painted side of the bamboo screen. Behind them, two white-robed figures, sticks of incense between their palms, stood amidst a crowd of empty metal folding chairs. Under the itchy white hoods and veils, the two shared the same snub nose, monolid black eyes, and sallowed skin. The older of the two was also the taller, their body thin and shrunken. The shorter was younger by twenty years, their form still hale and stout despite the black rings around their eyes.

An Daiwen (安代玟) shut their eyes for just a moment. The next thing they knew, their mother was giving them a bony elbow to the bicep. They jerked their head up with an involuntary snort, fingers fumbling to keep the incense from falling to the wet grass. The priest turned away from heaven to give them the stink-eye.

“Sorry,” they mouthed.

The priest wasn’t even looking. He stared past Daiwen and their mother and into the west, his chant dying mid-drone.

A tall, thin man in Shenmen’s signature waterproof black silk led a muscular, hulking posse in similarly cut and dyed silk on a path through the grass to the funerary tent. The village bandit lord and his enforcers each carried a black umbrella with a razor-sharp tip and a single-edged blade sheathed in the bamboo handle. Some of them even carried foreign lanterns of gold and glass.

Their mother’s lip twitched with the slightest snarl. She turned her back to the bandit lord and snapped at the priest.

“Please. Continue.”

The lord met Daiwen’s eyes and raised a shushing finger to his lips. He pointed at the priest, who hastily turned back to heaven and picked up the chant. Daiwen shivered with disgust.

The lord’s posse filed into the row behind them while the lord himself plucked a stick of incense from the box the priest had left on a table of flowers. He stood beside their mother.

“Lovely evening, Mrs. An,” he said, touching the unlit tip of his stick to hers.

Daiwen’s mother held steady, but Daiwen’s incense snapped in two between their palms.

“It’s going to rain.”

Daiwen recognized the growl under her mother’s even tone. The lord only laughed.

“Hence the umbrellas.”

“A poor time and place for business.”

“Then we’re lucky this is no longer a matter of business but ownership. Perhaps even--”

“I’ll get you the money.”

“That’s what he said. And then he died. Poisoned mushrooms, was it? Which one of you did he ask to cook them? Or did that wet stiff eat them raw in the dark?”

Each word was a burning needle in Daiwen’s ear. Their face set with their mother’s stone. They leaned across their mother and spat on the lord’s shiny black boot.

His knuckles cracked across their cheek. The force threw Daiwen back over the chairs and into the muscle posse.

“No, please!”

The enforcers caught Daiwen by the arms. They kicked away the chairs and shoved them to their knees. The tips of two umbrellas drew a bead of blood from either side of their neck. Daiwen’s fury shrivelled away into throat-parching, gut-sucking fear. They would really kill Daiwen and maybe their mother, too.

Their mother’s clenched fists trembled at her sides.

“Please, forgive my child. Daiwen didn’t-didn’t--”

The lord raised a shushing finger to his lips. He swung his umbrella up from the grass and held it aloft, its tip under the tent’s lantern.

“Why punish the living when I could punish the dead?”

He jabbed the tip through the lantern. Oil splattered onto the grass. The guiding light guttered out. Daiwen screamed.

“Dad!”

An aura of bright purple exploded out from Daiwen in all directions. Time slowed. Their aura passed through grass and metal, wood and flesh, but everywhere it flared, it struck solid against the wall of the spirit world first knocking, then breaking. It sucked out the living energy like blood from a wound. Behind the screen of heaven, Daiwen’s tar-painted father rose.

The tent shook with screams. The priest sprang back from the undead, crashing into the table of flowers as his fingers made the sign of the spiraling comet.

The muscle posse threw Daiwen to the ground. They fell back into a defensive line, umbrellas and swords pointed at the walking dead.

The bandit lord, his forearm wrapped around their mother’s neck, laughed.

“You backforest bumpkins,” he pointed his umbrella at Daiwen, “they’re a necromancer. Now then, drop your daddy’s corpse and we’ll all pretend we didn’t just see you commit a crime against both the gods and nature itself.”

“N-no!” said the priest. “‘Thou shalt not suffer a--’”

The lord shushed him. Half his enforcers turned their weapons on Daiwen. Daiwen swallowed hard over the knot in their throat but managed to squeak out the important words.

“Let my mom go.”

The lord lifted his arm off their mother with a shrug. She ran obliviously past her undead husband to Daiwen’s side, squeezing their clammy hand. 

Daiwen, squeezing back, looked across at their father’s stitched and tarred eyes before remembering they were sightless. Their gaze dropped to the bone pendant of a spiraling comet dangling from his throat. It was possible there was nothing left of him to send back to the Mother of Souls--that was Daiwen’s fault.

“Sorry dad,” they murmured.

The necromantic energy fled from his corpse. The break in the spirit world sealed shut before the body hit the floor. Daiwen blinked against the pricking in their eyes.

“Excellent! Now Mrs. An, if you’d be so kind as to come with me.”

“What’s going to happen to my child?”

The lord sighed.

“Bumpkins, you heard the priest.”

“No--”

Daiwen staggered back, eyes darting from their mother to the lord to the brandished weapons. The enforcers stepped and climbed over the fallen chairs toward them. Daiwen tripped over their own stumbling feet, throwing their arms instinctively over their head and neck. Rather than steel through the skin, Daiwen felt only a shadow over their face.

Their mother stood between them and the muscle posse. She pointed a single finger at the lord.

“You have no idea what it means to suffer a necromancer. Let me show you.”

The lord screamed. His skin stretched and distended over his joints. Spurs of bone ripped red through the soft tissues, splitting him open from the inside out.

The priest screamed. The enforcers screamed. Daiwen’s mother screamed.

“Run!”

Daiwen screamed. Blood pounded in their ears. They ran.

They couldn’t go back to the village. They ran into the woods. The forest was dark, but the people of Shenmen didn’t need a light to guide them. Every tree and leaf was as clear and sharp as the sting of the branches whipping through Daiwen’s robes.

Thunder rumbled. It was all the warning they got before the rain fell in icy torrents through the leaves of the trees, soaking Daiwen to the bone. They had to find shelter.

In the darkness between the trees, they glimpsed a wall of stone bricks riddled with cracks and woody vines slithering through holes. Daiwen ran to the wall, panting into the pelting rain. Wooden doors had rotted out of the wall’s gateway, but the characters carved into the stone archway remained: Bashi Temple (耙石廟).

At the end of an overgrown walkway, the temple itself rose in stone tiers choked by a scaffold of trees, roots, and vines, but if it hadn’t fallen after all these years, one more night of rain wouldn’t make a different.

Daiwen stumbled up the walkway of roots and displaced stones and up the broken steps. With the temple doors rotted off their rusted hinges, the sound of falling rain followed Daiwen deep into the heart of the temple. A faint glow shone from a hall choked in the grip of tangled roots. As Daiwen moved toward the light, the raindrops faded into the deepening shadows.

A young priest with black hair woven into an intricate braid tended a crackling fire at the center of a broken mosaic. The warm glow of the flame cast all the colored stones in a single golden light and bleached the pattern from the priest’s coarse robes. A long strand of heavy prayer beads each the size of an eye hung from their neck. They smiled at Daiwen.

“I won’t ask your name if you won’t ask mine.”

“I won’t,” Daiwen stuttered between their chattering teeth.

“Don’t catch your death. Come, sit by the fire.”

Daiwen sat. They peeled off their funerary robes--wet, torn, and soiled. The fitted hemp shirt and pants they wore beneath had taken only slightly less of a beaten.

“You may have to take them all off.”

Daiwen’s face flushed scarlet, but they couldn’t argue. Daily wear and underwear joined the robes. Their uncovered stomach growled rudely.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. If I had any food, I would offer it, but no one has made an offering in years.”

Daiwen shuddered by the fire and curled their knees to their chest. The priest sat beside them, concern clear across their moon pale face.

“Shall I hold you?”

Under any other circumstances, Daiwen would’ve refused. The priest could only have asked to be polite, hospitable toward their ailing guest. But Daiwen had suffered one too many revelations today. They were a necromancer. Their mother was a necromancer. Their mother had killed a man. They had burned and defiled spirit energies to turn their father into a mindless undead abomination. Daiwen crawled into the priest’s lap and rested the side of their face against the priest’s sternum.

“I think I might’ve sinned.”

“I can’t offer you forgiveness.”

The priest’s words vibrated straight from their chest into Daiwen’s back.

“What can you offer?” they asked, their voice fallen to a whisper.

The priest placed burning fingertips on Daiwen’s bare shoulders. They pushed Daiwen’s rain-sticky body just far enough off their chest to brush their lips against the dip between Daiwen’s neck and collarbone.

Daiwen gasped. Raw heat jolted down from their neck to the core. A second jolt lanced up from their cunt to meet it.

Daiwen turned on the priest. Their legs wrapped around the priest like a belt as Daiwen’s gasping mouth found theirs. The priest shrugged off their sleeves. They pushed Daiwen to the temple floor to remove the rest, all but the beads around their neck.

Daiwen pushed up onto their knees, their head level with the priest’s clit. Daiwen took the priest by the hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh of their ass. They licked the priest from slit to clit.

“More,” begged the priest, both hands clutching Daiwen’s hair.

“More what?” Daiwen teased, two fingers parting the priest’s lips.

A bead of slick dripped from the pursed hole of their cunt onto Daiwen’s waiting tongue.

“More, please.”

It would’ve been rude not to give the priest what they wanted after they’d asked so nicely. Daiwen tweezed their clit between two fingers and stuck two more into the priest’s dripping mouth. As Daiwen’s fingers gunned up the priest’s shaft, their third and fourth knuckles crowned up into the priest’s anus.

The priest whimpered, knees shaking as their walls clenched around Daiwen’s merciless fingers. They shut their eyes at their own pleasure, but that was half the fun.

“Look at me, and I’ll make you cum.”

The priest whined like a piteous bitch in heat and forced their eyes to meet Daiwen’s. Daiwen grinned and placed their mouth over the priest’s clit in time with the thrust of their fingers. They curled their tongue around the priest’s bead and sucked.

The priest screamed. Their cunt spat and convulsed around Daiwen’s fingers. They dropped to the temple floor in a trembling heap.

Daiwen sat back on their heels. They licked the priest’s slick from their fingers before dropping both hands to their own salivating cunt. They rubbed and grunted with such need that they toppled to the ground on their side. Daiwen panted insensibly, rolling onto their back. They came with a mewl and shudder.

As they laid panting, a shadow fell across their dampened face. The priest stood over them, prayer beads now dangling from one hand.

“Your sex is punishing, but can you take as well as you give?”

Daiwen sat up onto their elbows, biting their lip uncertainly.

“What are you going to do with those?”

The priest raised one foot to Daiwen’s chest. They pinched Daiwen’s nipple between their toes. Daiwen yelped. The priest pulled and forced them up to sitting.

“Let me show you.”


	2. Stone Heart, Spicy Hand

Chapter 2: Stone Heart, Spicy Hand (心狠手辣)

The priest sat across from Daiwen with their knees bent and their legs spread. They bent the strand of varnished, wooden prayer beads. The two strands stretched shoulder width across with a breadth as wide as their palm. One hand rubbed the mix of spit and slick between their legs over their puckered anus. They lowered the eye-sized bead at one end of the doubled strand to the tiny hole.

“No,” breathed Daiwen, their own ass twitching at the threat.

“Yes.”

The priest’s anus swallowed the first bead with a stifled grunt, the next two pressing and distending the hole inward. Daiwen grabbed the priest by the ankles in alarm.

“You’re going to break!”

“I know.”

They couldn’t stifle the next cry. But even as they screamed at the intrusion, a new trail of slick leaked out from their slit and onto the priest’s tail of beads.

The priest, face flushed and breath shallow, pulled Daiwen on top of them. Daiwen couldn’t shake the twitching of their own ass as they answered the priest’s shameless need with pure, rutting instinct.

Daiwen licked and sucked tit. They hooked one leg over the priest’s squirming hips and the other against the soft underside of their thigh. Daiwen shifted their weight over their cunt and the priest’s.

The priest rattled and shook as though possessed, crushed between the heavy wooden beads in their ass and Daiwen’s moaning grind. Arms and legs went rigid. Their back arched, hips bucking with such force that they rocked Daiwen off their mounded perch.

Daiwen yelped. Their back hit the temple floor with a sticky slap. They whined at the edge of orgasm. Daiwen reached a hand between their legs, but the priest caught their wrist.

“No, please, I need to cum.”

“I know.”

The priest crawled on hands and knees over Daiwen, fingertips burning into the skin of their wrist.

“Let me help you. Let me link us.”

Daiwen whimpered at the image of the beads distending the priest’s anus, but their own empty, empty holes twitched and throbbed. They gave the priest a single, timid nod.

The priest grinned. They pinned Daiwen’s wrist to the ground and reached back with their own hand between both of their legs. Their fingers wrapped around the beads of their dangling tail. They pressed the first bead at the free end of the doubled strand against Daiwen’s tight, wetted asshole.

Daiwen grunted and squirmed as the bead stretched the skin of the their entrance. The priest shook their head, tutting. They caught Daiwen’s trembling legs between their knees and flipped Daiwen onto their stomach, pinning their arm across their back. The priest laid over them. Daiwen’s breath hitched between the trapping weight and object pressing into their hole.

“Will you take my gift or not?” the priest hissed into their ear.

“Yes, please, just do it.”

The priest obeyed. They shoved the first, second, and third beads into Daiwen. Daiwen jerked and choked at the raw, ruthless stretch of their shaft. Then, they howled. 

Their legs kicked and flailed at the searing pleasure of their impalement. They bucked and writched under the priest, drooling onto the temple floor. The priest’s weight kept Daiwen in place, forcing their wracking cunt to grind with every jump and start.

Daiwen came shrieking until they’d screeched themself hoarse and raw. They continued to cum with a helpless mewl and shudder. Their eyes rolled to the back of their head where they knew nothing but pleasure and darkness.

\--/--

Daiwen woke on hard sonte in cold darkness. Thin tendrils of soft gray smoke wound up over them and whorled to the temple ceiling. The roots and vines that first held the stones of the temple in a crushing chokehold had retreated to the far corners of the roof and the walls.

Daiwen pried their sticky back just enough off the floor to roll on their sticky side. The fire had burned to ashes and glowing embers, but in the lesser light, they could see all the colors of the floor’s mosaic--it wasn’t even as broken as it had first appeared.

Five linked rings sat within the cirle of colored stones. Each ring depicted a different element in minimalist shapes--earth, wood, water, fire, and--the priest’s re-robed knee covered what should have been the ring of metal.

The priest sat on their heels, both hands limp at their sides. Their head slumped over one shoulder at the angle of a broken neck. Their hair fell in a black sheet over their face, covering all but a single eye over a sliver of moon pale skin. The eye met Daiwen’s.

“I decided not to sacrifice you.”

“Thank you…?” Daiwen croaked in confusion.

The words burned their throat. Their entire body ached and burned from last night’s brutal sex. Their stomach growled. The priest’s veil of hair shifted slightly over where their mouth would’ve been.

“If you can convince the gate guardian to let you through, there is a city not far away.”

“I don’t have any money.”

They didn’t have anything anymore. And their mother had even less. Daiwen could only hope she was somewhere in the Mingdao Wood as well. Life and nothing was better than going home to meet their deaths in the village.

If the city was as near as the priest suggested, maybe their mother had already made her way there. Money or not, Daiwen had to check. They crawled up onto their aching hands and knees.

The priest pointed a curved finger at the dying embers in the ashes.

“I don’t have much time left. If you want to return to your world, pass through the five gates and wake the Sleeping God.”

“I don’t understand.”

A brisk, whistling wind swept in from the hall. The ashes flew into the air. Daiwen threw their arms over their face. The wind streaked frigid soot across their skin. They shivered into the dying gust.

The ashes fell in slow spirals like soft, gray snowflakes. Daiwen looked across the falling curtain of soot. The priest had vanished.

Daiwen’s skin itched and pricked with unborn sweat. A dagger of fear stabbed through their gut. They understood. By their necromancy, they’d sinned against the spirit world. As punishment, they’d been spirited away like the villain of every bedtime story.

Daiwen’s throat closed up tight, blood pounding in their ears. They ran out of the empty room, each breath a new burst of fire in their lungs. Their bare feet smacked stone, picking up speed with every step. Daiwen sprinted into the gray daylight from the temple’s now unbroken windows.

Heavy wooden doors, painted red, hung in the temple’s doorway. Daiwen shoved at them with desperate strength. Their palms met air. The doors swung open of their own accord.

Daiwen yelped and tumbled naked down the temple stairs. They fell to the cobblestone walkway in a heap of red scrapes and purpling bruises. They couldn’t catch their panting breath.

Daiwen picked themself up with a wince and shallow hiss. They pulled the black tangles of hair out of their eyes. The walkway, hedged by dark green moss on either side, led down to the same wall they’d glimpsed last night. Only now, the wall stood as tall as the trees. The sloped clay tiles that lined its top blocked out even the canopies.

Their eyes darted wildly, searching for the gateway. They spotted the name of the temple carved into the archway. New stone blocks bricked up the only exit.

“No...No!”

Daiwen staggered and ran to the end of the walkway. They slammed their palms against the stones.

“No, please, let me out!”

They screamed and pounded until their hands left red smears on the gritty stone. They drew back with a ragged breath dripping blood and sweat onto the walkway.

The gate guardian. The priest said there was a gate guardian. They hadn’t come to investigate Daiwen’s physical disturbance. They had to be a spirit.

“Fuck.”

Daiwen’s one breach into the spirit world had been through their aura, their necromancy, and pure chance. They had no idea if they could find that magic again, and even if they did, there was no guarantee that the guardian wouldn’t kill them for what they were.

Daiwen looked back at the towering, empty temple. They would rather be killed swift and just than shrivel away from starvation. They placed both red palms on the gateway stones.

“Gate Guardian, come to me.”

Their aura flared. Purple spirit light wreathed their body and spread through the space around them like ink spilling into the air.

The stones rumbled under their palms. Daiwen broke into a sweat but didn’t draw back. They leaned into the wall.

The solid weight vanished under them. Daiwen screamed hoarse and fell into the wall. A smooth circle of stone cinched around their waist. Their arms and upper body dropped against one side of the stone wall. Their hips and knees bashed against the other.

Daiwen croaked out a pained cry. They braced their hands against the stone blocks and pushed. Their hips only banged against the bricks, their waist trapped in an unyielding grip. They couldn’t move.

Daiwen screamed a rasping shriek. They kicked and pounded the wall with force fed by sheer panic. The rough bricks scraped through the skin. Their futile blows left dripping red ribbons around both sides of the hole.

The quiet green forest in front of them blurred. Burning tears fell to the mat of dead and molding leaves. At the top of their wavering gaze were the woven tips of two black silk boots. Daiwen raised their head and parted their tangles.

A warrior in armor of hardened bamboo slats woven in spidersilk stood less than arm’s length away. Silk strands wrapped around and reinforced the horned ox skull that they wore as a helm. It cast all but the grim line of their mouth in shadow. Four burning pits glowed green from the back of the warrior’s skull.

“I am Tushenmen (土神門), guardian of the earthen gate. What are you doing in my wall?”

“Nothing, please, I just want to get out.”

“The stones do not trap the innocent.”

“I know--I know I did something wrong, but I didn’t mean to. It was an accident. Please, have mercy.”

“What did you do?”

“I...”

Daiwen shook their head. They hadn’t done anything. It wasn’t their fault.

Their palms sank into the wall. Daiwen rasped out a yelp. Stone closed in tight circles around their wrists. The wall yanked both of their arms back, forcing their back into an upward curve. Their eyes met the four glowing pits in the dark of the guardian’s helm. Behind the wall, their hands trembled and sweat on either side of their hips.

“What did you do?”

“I was scared. Somehow--I don’t know--I accidentally stole energy from the spirit world and used it to bring my father back to life. Kind of.”

“The dead can’t return by accident. They are brought back with intent, necromancer,” the spirit spat the word like a curse.

“No! No! I’m not a--”

The guardian’s bare knuckles cracked across their cheek. Their vision blurred, tears spilling over. But the guardian was right.

Daiwen couldn’t remember their fear of the bandit lord. They remembered only their anger, their hatred. Daiwen had wished death on the lord and raised their father in undeath to make that wish come true.

“I...am a necromancer.”

They looked back up at the guardian, but their glowing green eyes only stared at the earth brown skin of their hand. Daiwen’s cheek still burned and smarted from the blow. Daiwen raised a dark, curious brow.

“You felt something when you struck me.”

“...my hand felt human.”

Everything clicked. They were a spirit. Daiwen was a necromancer. They stole life to give to the dead, and what a precious gift it had to be.

“Take off your armor.”

The guardian went as still as the unyielding stones. Only their four glowing eyes moved, meeting Daiwen’s.

“Take off your armor, and I’ll make all of you feel human again.”

The guardian stared at them in silence. Daiwen’s pulse pounded in their ears, their fearful breath short and shallow. 

The guardian’s head lowered. Their hands moved to the straps of their armor.


	3. As a Road in the Rain

Chapter 3: As a Road in the Rain (天雨路滑)

The armored jacket went first, revealing the character for earth (土) inked in black over the guardian’s sternum. Inked characters of a much more ancient, fluid script ran out from ‘earth’ in lines up their shoulders, down their arms, and down the sides of their ribcage.

The guardian stepped out of their boots and unbuckled their belt. Daiwen drew in a sharp breath, full of second thoughts. The guardian had an upper and a lower penis between their ink-lined legs. Neither cock had a completely human shape. The heads weren’t rounded but flat over widening shafts like two large stoppers. There was no way Daiwen could fit both down their throat. Even one presented a potential choking hazard.

“Should I put my clothes back on?”

“M-n-no. I’ll just have to…,” they looked up at the four glowing pits in the ox-skull helm.

The guardian made no move to remove their helm. Daiwen wondered if it was actually the upper half of the spirit’s head. Despite their curiosity, it would’ve been rude to ask, especially after the guardian had been so compliant.

“You’ll...you’ll have to come closer.”

The guardian approached in halting steps. They stopped before Daiwen’s nose could brush the dark line of hair the trailed down to their flaccid cocks.

“May I touch you?”

“Yes.”

The guardian laid the back of their burning hand along Daiwen’s bruised cheek. The spirit guardian grunted in surprise at the necromancer’s gift, the feeling of borrowed life, but they didn’t pull their hand away. 

On the other side of the wall, a second burning hand laid across the small of Daiwen’s back.

Daiwen yelped and jumped, but the wall held them fast. Their hips and knees scuffed against the rough stone. Both burning hands yanked back from their skin.

“Sorry.”

It took several seconds before Daiwen could find their voice.

“That was you?”

“I guard both sides of the wall.”

That made some kind of sense. Daiwen shivered, bracing themself. They nodded at the guardian.

“Come here.”

The guardian approached but again stopped short.

“Closer.”

They walked into the side of Daiwen’s face, hissing at the contact. They had no idea.

Daiwen turned their head and buried their face in hair and flesh.

The groaned. One hand smacked the wall, bracing. The fingers of the other wrapped in Daiwen’s hair. Both cocks stiffened under Daiwen’s tongue to an alarming length and girth.

They didn’t need to tell the guardian to use their mouth. Only, the guardian pushed both cocks in between their lips and down their throat.

Daiwen choked and gagged as they stuffed their throat from wall to wall. Their fingers spasmed uselessly behind the wall, wrists in the stone’s vice-grip. Snot and tears ran down their face as they gurgled helplessly.

The guardian pulled back at the sight. Daiwen gasped and heaved for breath like a drowning sailor.

“Sorry, sorry.”

A hand reached to wipe the leaking mess on Daiwen’s face but pulled back before making contact. Daiwen looked up with a weak, bemused smile between the curtain of snot and tears.

“My mouth is one hole, so just put one dick in next time.”

“Right, right.”

Behind the wall, the guardian’s hand grazed Daiwen’s flank. It trailed up to the soft curve of their ass.

“You have two hole here,” they said, voice low and quiet.

“Yes,” Daiwen squeaked.

The guardian said nothing more. They removed their hand.

“Do you want to try again?” they asked, glancing at the spirit’s very erect cocks.

“Yes. Only on this time.”

“Wait. You can...try two on the other side. Just--just make sure I’m wet first.”

Behind the wall, a rough, burning tongue licked them from clit to slit to anus. Daiwen shuddered into the wall. Vaginal slick seeped between their lips to the meet the spirit’s pressure.

“Like that?”

“More,” Daiwen begged in a breathless rasp.

They opened their mouth for the guardian’s cock. The guardian rested their upper penis on Daiwen’s head and eased the other into Daiwen’s mouth and back down their throat.

Their throat clenched and convulsed around the heavy length and girth, but Daiwen was ready this time. They forced themself to breathe through their nose even as the guardian began to knock against the back of the their throat. They just had to focus on--

Two blunt, heavy tips pressed against either of Daiwen’s holes on the other side of the wall. They coughed and sputtered around the dick in their mouth. Their fingers spasmed uselessly, knees scuffing stone.

The otherside guardian hooked both arms under Daiwen’s legs and raised them up on either side of their narrow hips. Daiwen’s feet left the gravel on the ground. Their balance shifted downward. Daiwen’s upper half tipped forward. They let out a muffled squawk as their head impaled on the guardian’s cock. Daiwen gurgled and snorted for breath, drooling on their balls.

Behind the wall, two cocks pushed into Daiwen’s holes. One filled their ass and the other their vagina. The cock in their throat choked out their scream at the raw stretch. They shuddered and bucked, hips banging senselessly into the wall as their head bobbed on the spirit’s dick. It was too much.

Then the guardian rammed both cocks down the full length of Daiwen’s spasming shafts. Daiwen arched and quaked in the crushing stone grip of the wall. Every part of them quivered and clenched. Searing pleasure speared them up from the base of their spine all the way to the crown of their head.

Daiwen’s vision went black, both shafts crushing and being crushed between the spirit’s cocks. All they could hear was their own holes squelching on the other side of the wall like boots in the mud.

The guardian cursed and moaned. From their lower cock, cum as hot and bitter as a human’s but with the texture of sticky, gelatinous ooze shot down Daiwen’s throat. Their cum splooged out from the spirit’s upper cock in the same glowing green as their eyes. It oozed into Daiwen’s hair, down their shoulders, and down the dip in their back to where the wall cinched their waist.

On the other side, the ectoplasmic cum shot up Daiwen’s ass like a sludge enema and filled their vagina to the womb. Daiwen let out a cock-and-cum-muffled groan, so stuffed they couldn’t remember the morning’s growling hunger.

The guardian eased out of their throat, ass, and vagina. Daiwen sagged against the wall, cum oozing down their strengthless legs. The stones of the wall shifted out from under them. Daiwen fell forward with a weak yelp, eyes squeezed shut. They never hit the ground.

The spirit caught Daiwen in their arms. They carried them a few feet from the wall to a thick, dark carpet of moss under a black-boughed tree. They laid Daiwen’s sticky, battered body on the moss and knelt beside them. The little finger of one hand curled around Daiwen’s, maintaining the living, burning link. Though they didn’t move to replace their armor, their ox-skull head stayed up and alert for danger.

Daiwen’s head swam so that the leaves overhead seemed to dance like fish in a pond. They could still taste the spirit, bitter and earthen as a mouthful of wet dirt.

“My body doesn’t want to move,” they murmured.

“Sorry about that.”

A weak but genuine laugh bubbled up from Daiwen’s chest. It hurt the fullness of their stomach, but they didn’t want to stop. It was the first time they’d laughed since their father’s death.

“Don’t be. It feels good. I...feel good.”

The spirit’s little finger squeezed theirs.

“I’ll stay with you until you can move.”

“Thank you, Tushenmen.”

The spirit and the necromancer remained under the tree in silence. Daiwen dozed off after a few breaths. They woke at the cool first drops of the daily rain. True to their word, Tushenmen knelt beside them.

Daiwen smiled and sat up into the feather-light drizzle. Tushenmen vanished.

“No, wait!”

Daiwen scrambled up to their feet. They staggered into a run toward the wall.

“Wait! Wait!”

They slammed their palm against the unyielding stones. There was no response. All heat bled out from Daiwen in the earth, the air, and the rain. The spirits of this realm were frighteningly literal.

Daiwen shrank under the strengthening rain. Their hair plastered like black ink over their bare skin.

“My clothes…”

They were lost for good on the other side of the earthen gate.


	4. After the Rain

Chapter 4: After the Rain (雨過天晴)

At the base of Bashi Temple’s bricked up gateway, a stone road wound between the trees and disappeared into the Mingdao Wood. With the fast-falling rain sure to continue on and off for the rest of the daylight hours, Daiwen had no choice but to follow the road, hopefully to the city mentioned by the priest.

They kept to the moss and underbrush at the roadside i case they had to crouch in the bushes to hide their nakedness from some unsuspecting traveller. Their thoughts went at once to their mother. They should’ve said a prayer for her at the temple while they’d had the chance. Then again, Daiwen hadn’t seen any statue or sign of a god in that broken then empty place.

A muffled cry pierced through the patter of the falling rain. Daiwen threw themself into a prickling, scratching bush. They raised only their eyes above the dark leaves. The rain continued to fall on the empty road.

The voice cried again from the trees, weaker this time. Daiwen kept low to the ground and crawled up the muddy bank. They barely registered the scrapes and scratches from the underbrush.

The trees opened to a small clearing over a dead tree sheathed in devouring moss. Between two towering lengths of bright green bamboo, a web as large as a ship’s sail caught and held the rain like a net of glistening stars. Two small, winged fey, mogui (魔鬼), dangled on the web, their faces masked with the sticky strands but their bodies naked.

The first had skin like green jade with the wings and curled antennae of a butterfly. Their arms, bound a the wrists stretched up behind them. Thick silk strands wrapped around their torso and hips suspended from above and bound their ankles to their thighs with their feet pointing into the air.

The second had skin like brown jade with the wings and fuzzy feelers of a moth. They’d been bound facing upward, thick bands of silk wrapped around their bowed back. Sticky strands strapped their lower legs to their stretched arms.

“Mother of Souls! Stay there! Erm, I’ll get you down!”

Both of the mogui cried out, struggling in their silk bindings, but the strands over their faces and in their mouths muffled their sound and kept their tongues from forming words.

Daiwen looked to the bamboo but immediately tossed the option. There was no way they could make it up the smooth and rain-slicked pole. The nearest tree stretched its boughs toward the top of the web, well over the mogui.

“Fuck it.”

They would just have to climb up the tree then down the web. Daiwen set their bare foot on the highest knob of roots and grabbed the lowest branch in both hands. The rough, wet bark bit into their palms, but they held tight and walked both feet up the tree trunk. 

With both legs braced against the trunk, they huffed and pulled their shoulders up to the side of the branch. Daiwen wrapped their bare arms around it and rolled up onto their stomach, wet bark pinching their skin. They hung on for dear life, but they’d made it off the ground. The next branch was only a step above.

Daiwen kept as close to the trunk as they could as they stepped from branch to branch. Slowly but surely, they made their way to the branch over the top of the web. Daiwen let out a shuddering breath and grasped the bough above with both slick, dirtied palms.

They walked their hands and feet away from the solid, sturdy trunk down the narrowing, jostling branch. They did their best to ignore the tickle of fear in their bladder, instead counting down the steps. Three. Two. One.

They stood directly over the topmost glistening strand of web. One foot left the branch. They pointed their toes down, but their foot wouldn’t reach.

Despite the teeth chattering in their skull, Daiwen let go with one hand. They flinched and squeaked as the branch above bounced and shook down the rain, but they didn’t fall.

Their breath returned short and shallow, pulse pounding in their ears. Daiwen lowered their shaking foot off the branch. It touched down on the sticky line of web.

“H-ha!” they panted.

Only now they were stuck with one hand and foot in the tree, one hand in the air, and one foot on the web. They had to jump. Daiwen looked from the narrow sail of web to the dizzying drop to the dead tree. They filled with second thoughts. Maybe there was a better way to free the mogui.

A crack and thick rip of green fiber echoed in the clearing. The branch bent and tore off the tree in Daiwen’s hand. They screamed and went reeling back under the new weight. They flailed in thin air, piss running up their torso as they fell head first toward the ground.

Lines of web snapped under their falling, flailing limbs. Daiwen shrieked and bounced as the sticky ends wrapped closed and caught them. The web bound and spread their bent arms and legs.

Daiwen struggled and squirmed in the web, but the sticky bindings only tightened. They were as trapped and helpless as the mogui. 

The rain burned as it flowed up Daiwen’s nose, but at least it washed the piss off their face. They shook the web with a blubbery, near-hysterical laugh. What a ridiculous way to die.

A large, dark mass moved through the trees. The laughter died in Daiwen’s throat but their body continued to tremble. Across from the web, a spider as large as a tent emerged. 

A dark mane of shaggy hair surrounded a beautiful, humanoid face like a porcelain mask that ended in venom-dripping mandibles. The phase spider carried a third, web-bound mogui between their forelegs, this one with golden skin and the wings of a dragonfly. The phase spider’s main eyes and the three black dots under each met Daiwen’s.

Daiwen screamed. The spider screamed. All three mogui let out muffled cries of alarm.

“What are you doing naked in my web?”

Daiwen’s scream faded into the pattering rain.

“I lost my clothes,” they croaked.

“That’ll happen if you’re not wary. Shifty things, clothes. I’ve never met a cloth fiber I could trust to hold water, much less a full body. You hold still there and I’ll get you down.”

“Oh, thanks. What about the mogui?”

“They’re not big fans of clothes either, but they’ll be wearing costumes come showtime.”

“I’m confused.”

“We’re rehearsing for a circus act--greatest show in Shenmen. Oh! Oh! Why don’t we wrap up early and take our visitor back for an advance screening?”

The three mogui let out muffled cries of agreement.

The phase spider, Yanxi (宴席), she/her, carried Daiwen and the mogui down from the web. The waist-high fey introduced themselves as Yanxi unmasked and unbound them. The butterfly-winged mogui was named Aili (愛裡), she/her. The moth-winged one was Leiting (雷霆), they/them. The dragonfly-winged mogui was Paopao (泡泡), he/him.

Once everyone was free and readjusting to the upright position, Yanxi rapidly spun the four of them simple, clinging silk sheaths to wear. The sleeves dresses protected little but their modesty, but it did keep their cores from losing any more heat to the rain.

Daiwen followed the four through the bamboo and black-boughed trees to a second, much larger clearing. The trees and bamboo here had been felled to support four small red tents and the massive, red-pink-yellow-and-green-striped tent they surrounded.

“Stay here!”

Yanxi scuttled and the mogui flew, giggling, under the big top. Daiwen waited under the lightening rain. They listened to the clash of metal and earth-shaking rumbles from the tent with some concern.

As the clouds parted over the clearing to a vibrant blue sky, an unknown voice boomed out from the tent.

“Enter if you dare! And are over the age of eighteen.”

“I am.”

“Then enter if you dare!”

Daiwen, giddy with curiosity and the dregs of adrenaline from their near-death experience, sidled through the black gap between the striped flaps of the big top.

A tall figure with paper-white skin and a long mane of white hair stood at the center of a wide dirt stage with a coiled whip in their hands. They wore a tall black hat, a red-tailed jacket, and thigh-high black boots with dagger-sharp heels. They winked a flashing red eye at Daiwen, freezing them in their tracks. They grinned and began to sing in a voice low to the earth:

“Woah woah woah woah oh"  


Daiwen jumped at the lightning-fast crack of their whip. Blue-gray smoke burst up from the ground. Four cages appeared in the haze, each holding a curled but towering silhouette.

“Your fever dream, can't you see it getting closer...”

The four figures roared and unfurled to their full heights in the clearing smoke. Daiwen recognized Yanxi the phase spider. Two were muscled giants easily two heads taller than the ringmaster with the skeletal heads of dead horses as well as short haired coat of their living counterparts. The last was a tiger the size of a monstrous ox with the armored wings and scaled legs of a dragon. The four raised their unearthly voices in song along with the ringmaster:

“Oh, this is the greatest show..."  


The sides of the cages fell with a thunderous crash. The four roared even louder. The ringmaster sprang right into Daiwen’s face, raising a finger to their lips. The four dropped into a taut silence behind the ringmaster, who leaned forward to whisper in Daiwen’s ear:

“Colossal we come these renegades in the ring...”

Three shining rings descended from the heights of the big top. Each held a corseted mogui bound in silk within. The ringmaster walked backward from Daiwen. They and the four sang together:

“Don't fight it, it's coming for you...”

The ringmaster cracked their whip from the back of the stage. Yanxi and the winged tiger leapt onto the horse-skulled giants, forcing them onto their hands and knees.

“Oh, this is the greatest show!”

Yanxi and the winged tiger howled and ripped the costumes off the muscled giants like tissue paper, revealing the giants’s silk-bound erections. The ringmaster cackled wildly and jumped on top of the central, mogui-bearing ring. They swung and sang:

“This is where you wanna be!”

Yanxi and the winged tiger each stepped two legs onto the giants’s backs, pushing their chests to the dust. Yanxi shoved another leg into their giant’s anus. The winged tiger drove their cock into the other. The ringmaster held onto the ring and wrapped their legs around Leiting’s shoulders so that the bound mogui could bury their face in the ringmaster’s cunt. Everyone sang but Leiting, who could only hum into the ringmaster:

“Oh, this is the greatest show!”

Both of the horse-skull-headed giants came with a thick, ropey splooge. Colored dust exploded in the air from every corner of the tent, painting everyone’s sweating bodies in brilliant hues. Yanxi and the winged tiger smacked the giants’s asses, and the two ran off braying and shooting cum, much to Daiwen’s utter bemusement. Yanxi and the winged tiger sang together:

“You see the impossible is coming true!”

Yanxi shot two strands of web at Aili and Paopao’s rings. She yanked them over to herself and the winged tiger. She held Aili’s ring upside down with Aili’s face in her cunt. The winged tiger held Paopao’s ring upside down between their teeth, their cock sheathed up the mogui’s throat. The ringmaster, Yanxi, the winged tiger, and the giants sang as the mogui hummed:

“This is the greatest show!”

In a feat of heaven-and-earth-defying tantric mastery, the ringmaster, Yanxi, and the winged tiger all came at the same time. Behind them, the giants set off two canons in thunderously unsubtle emphasis. Rainbows of shiny, metallic confetti exploded into the air and rained down on Daiwen and the adult circus performers.

Daiwen, somewhere between stupefied and utterly terrified, clapped out of polite habit. 

Those who were able, bowed.


	5. Throw the Stone

Chapter 5: Throw the Stone (投石問路)

Yanxi, the ringmaster, and the winged tiger freed their respective mogui partners. The entire, sweat-soaked troupe in various states of dishevelment and undress swarmed around Daiwen at a polite but pungent distance. Daiwen could barely keep track of who was making what rapidfire introduction, but they did their best to put a name to a face. Or a skull.

The winged tiger was a creature known as a qionqi (窮奇). His name was Mangtun (尨暾). The ringmaster, mistress of the entire circus troupe, was He Kaileng (核開稜). The two horse-skull-headed creatures were beings known as mamian (馬面). One was named Motou (魔頭), an agender they/them. The other was named Langhai (狼孩), a genderfluid they/them.

The sheer mass of the troupe shepherded Daiwen over to one of the cannons at the side of the dirt-ring stage. Daiwen leaned against the solid wrought-iron for support. Mistress He flapped her perfectly manicured hands at the performers to give Daiwen some air. She herself leaned her crooked elbow and jutting hip against the cannon.

“So what brings you to this side of town?”

“I’m just trying to get home. I’m not from around here.”

“Yeah, we could tell.”

Daiwen recounted the priest’s words with as much as they’d managed to make of them. They had to search the nearby city for the next spirit gate or at least find someone who knew where it might be.

Mistress He’s red eyes flashed Daiwen with a skeptical once-over.

“You know everything in the city comes at a price, right?”

That was going to be a problem. Mistress He snapped her fingers at Daiwen’s glaring worry and poverty.

“We’re in town for six more days, counting tonight. I can take you on as a sideshow for exactly that long--room, board, and five gold a day.” 

Daiwen’s eyes went as wide as golden shells. As a village seamster, they’d never earned more than five gold in a month, much less a day.

“Done!”

Mistress He clapped her hands and rubbed her palms under her pointy chin.

“Excellent. Rehearsals--” she cut off at Daiwen’s raised hand. “Yes, question?”

“Sorry, I know rehearsals must be important--”

“Mandatory.”

“Mandatory, but I’ve been through a lot this morning. Would you mind if I took a quick break first?”

“Of course, of course! Say, you came here for Laoshi City (老石). I could give you a quick tour if you’d like--my treat for our new sideshow attraction.”

“That’d be great! Does anyone else want to come?”

Mistress He and the other performers shared a cringing look.

“Humans only, I’m afraid.”

Mistress He grabbed a red umbrella and explained as they strolled down the road between the trees. Laoshi had recently suffered a spate of grisly murders and unsolved but likely related disappearances in the surrounding farms. With the culprit at large, a group of cityfolk had grown suspicious of the circus’s less humanoid performers despite the start of the crimes having predated the circus’s arrival. Give or take a day.

“That can’t be good for business.”

“Surprisingly true. It turns out not all scandals grab you by the horn.”

They crossed a stone bridge over a river with water so clear and soil so dark that it appeared as black as liquid earth. Daiwen leaned over the rail, a giggle rising in their throat at their rippling reflection in the water. Mistress He linked her arm with Daiwen’s and turned them toward the city’s rising skyline.

“Kid, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

The city’s wall-to-wall buildings rose five, six stories high on gray stone tiers lined with sloping clay tiles. They reminded Daiwen of Bashi Temple from a distance. Before they crossed under the stone arch at the end of the bridge, a sheer wall of pure noise rolled out to greet them.

Daiwen stepped closer to Mistress He as they walked up the stone road between dark stone lanterns. Scholars, farmers, artisans, and merchants on foot or in ox-pulled carts bustled like bees on dizzying routes in the narrow streets. Daiwen lost count of how many strangers bumped into them, but the end of their street finally opened to a sunny stone plaza full of vibrantly covered market stalls.

Strangers rushed past them not to any stall but to the far end of the marketplace where a large crowd had already gathered. Daiwen and Mistress He followed them a cautious pace. Every mouth in the crowd murmured two words into the wind: ‘yaoguai (妖怪)’ and ‘murderer.’

Morbid curiosity pulled Daiwen’s arm from Mistress He’s. They weaved between the jostling bodies to the front of the crowd in search of the one person in this other Shenmen who might’ve been a bigger sinner than themself.

On a massive, black-stained millstone, heavy iron chains bound a sitting, humanoid shape larger than any human. The yaoguai had the head, horns, and muscled mass of a bull falling apart. Here and there, ragged strips of their hide flapped over bone and muscle bound by wire stitches. Their shackled hands were more talon and bone than flesh. Their cloven hooves lacked a natural shine.

“Death to the murderer! Death to the yaoguai!”

The yaoguai could barely raise their head to the crowd under the weight of their iron collar and chains. They raised their solid black eyes instead. As they swept over Daiwen’s, the yaoguai’s bound fury struck Daiwen like a whack to the upside of the head. They knew that anger. It was the same anger they’d aimed at the bandit lord, the one that brought their father back from the dead to kill him.

Mistress He’s hand found Daiwen’s as the crowd began slinging rocks and rotten produce at the accused. She pulled them away, guards in woven armor wading in as slow as if the roads had turned to mud, but the look in the yaoguai’s eyes burned into the back of their skull.

\--/--

The chittering, chirping crowd fell silent as Mistress He stepped into the spotlight and spread her arms once more in welcome.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlefolk. Tonight we have for your viewing pleasure a bittersweet tale of aquatic delight: The Pearl and the Fisherman’s Beloved.”

Up in the tent top, Yanxi turned the spotlight from the ringmaster to Daiwen. They straddled a log supported by bamboo stilts over a shallow pool. A thick, sticky band of spiderweb strapped them down around the calves, so they could sit or kneel but were trapped on the log. In a cold sweat. Under their flimsy costume of a night shift and the heavy, hole-boring eyes of the audience.

The ringmaster only winked and snapped her fingers. Water rose up from the pool. Daiwen sat up on their knees as high off the log as they could, but the water followed. It rose until its tiny waves lapped at the base of their ass and crotch through the paper-thin shift. 

Daiwen shivered, breath hitching at the cold. Under the many eyes, they couldn’t catch their breath. They stuttered out their line between shallow pantings.

“Alas, my dear husband, all that remains of our life together is this single pearl.”

They raised the white-painted riverstone to the light.

“This pearl has become a dagger to my heart. And so, I cast it back into the waters from whence it came.”

Waves as tall as trees surged up from the risen water, splashing against the log. Their spray drenched Daiwen, pulling their shift tight to their trembling, sweat-sticky curves. 

Daiwen, teeth chattering, hugged their body with one arm and with the other tossed the stone into the pool. The waves froze in mid-crash like wings sculpted in glass. Though Daiwen had seen it during rehearsal, the sheer artistic mastery drew another gasp from their throat. The audience gasped with them.

The three mogui flew up from between the frozen waves. Aili and Leiting were dressed as two white, spectral hands with their faces in the palm and their arms through the first and third long fingers. Paopao wore the costume of a white, spectral head. The hole of its mouth opened over his finger-length dick and hairless balls.

“How can it be? I see my dear husband before me?”

“Oh my beloved, for your selfless love the sea god who parted us has allowed me to return to embrace you one last time.”

Daiwen pried their shaking fingers off their sides. They spread their arms open to the ghostly head and hands.

“Come to me, my husband.”

Aili flew up to Daiwen, the hand embracing them from the front. Leiting flew behind them, hand cupped in a similar embrace. The mogui grabbed hold of Daiwen’s sodden, clinging shift by the two fingers. They tore it off Daiwen’s naked, goose-prickled body.

Daiwen whimpered and sank their head to their shoulder, the black curtain of their hair hiding their face from the stares of the crowd. 

Leiting grabbed both of Daiwen’s upper arms and pinned them bent to their chest. They sat down on the log and pulled Daiwen’s back over their knees, keeping Daiwen up even as they bent their nakedness into an exposing bow for the audience.

Aili straddled the log in front of Daiwen’s knees and stroked their vulnerable inner thighs. Daiwen squirmed at the almost ticklish intensity, but Leiting’s hold and the strap around their calves kept them helpless to the mogui’s touch. 

Daiwen’s hair shifted out of their face from the writhing. The eyes of the audience weighed down every inch of them, crushing the air out of their lungs. Daiwen let out a dog’s nasal whine, looking around wildly for any salvation.

Paopao caught their eyes as he floated in last. He smiled and nodded encouragingly from the ghostly head’s forehead. He touched down with his legs straddling either side of Daiwen’s chest. He rubbed his dick between their breasts, hands in the head’s mustache squeezing them tight.

The audience laughed riotously. A flush of red and prickling heat spread from Daiwen’s chest to their neck, face, and all the way up to the top of their ears. They squeezed their eyes shut over hot tears of shame.

A hotter tongue ran along the dip of their water-chilled slit. A more piteous whimper escaped Daiwen’s lips. They squirmed at the hips as Aili flicked and sucked their clit. Three delicate fingers pushed between Daiwen’s reddening lips. Daiwen’s eyes opened wide.

The audience fell into silence. Their stares bored into Daiwen as pure heat. Daiwen shook and convulsed under Aili’s tongue and Paopao’s dick, huffing and grunting senselessly. All fear and shame crested into orgasm with them. Daiwen let their mouth open with moaning.

Paopao shifted up from Daiwen’s chest to shoved his cock and balls between their parted lips, completely filling their mouth. He pounded the top of their throat, the weight on their tongue muffling all gags and grunts.

Daiwen snorted and sputtered sticky water as Aili pushed her whole fist up Daiwen’s vagina. Their body shuddered and rattled as their walls squeezed down on the intruding arm. Their hips bucked and strained against the forced bow of their back, only driving Aili’s fist deeper into their clenching shaft. Daiwen screamed into Paopao’s humping genital gag.

Without a shred of mercy, Aili shoved the pointed fingers of her other hand up the same shaft. Daiwen’s wracking cunt seized up. Their entire body went rigid. Lances of searing pleasure curled up along their bowed spine and down their bent legs to the toe.

Their naked ecstasy sucked the cum from Paopao’s dick. The mogui pulled out of their mouth, spurting onto their face. His cum glistened in the spotlight. It fell like tears from Daiwen’s cheeks into their hair.

“Farewell, beloved.”

The mogui laid Daiwen’s naked, sticky body down, back flat to the log, chest rising and falling with stilling breaths. They floated back down into the pool. The wings of water receded. Daiwen choked out a laugh and a sob. Even they couldn’t tell if it was real or not.

The audience rose to their feet. Their applause roared like the ocean. 

Daiwen closed their eyes. They listened, exhausted, with the ghost of a smile.

\--/--

Backstage in the curtained wings of the big top, the three mogui freed themselves from their costumes and Daiwen from the strap. They pulled Daiwen up into a four-body embrace. The mogui laughed and cheered, whirling in the air.

“Woah, ha, please no spinning.”

The three set Daiwen back down with sheepish grins. They guided Daiwen to the washroom, offering more assistance if needed. Daiwen politely declined. They flew off, leaving them to their bath.

Before Daiwen climbed into the waiting tub of warm, sudsy water, they grabbed a pair of scissors off an old wooden crate serving as a low table. They sat on the edge of the crate with the scissors in their lap. They pulled their long, black tangles over their shoulder and into one fist.

The blades of the scissors broke their reflection into slivers of hair and flesh. As they cut above their clenched fist, their thoughts drifted back to the burning eyes of the yaoguai.


	6. Borrow the Tiger

Chapter 6: Borrow the Tiger (狐假虎威)

The troupe said nothing about Daiwen’s shorn hair when they showed up to breakfast, but Mistress He gave them a softer smile than the one she’d turned on the audience last night. Daiwen sat between her and the qiongqi at the round table. Daiwen ate their rice porridge quietly, listening more to the rain patter on the tent than the jovial chatter at the table.

After breakfast, they removed the simple dress that Yanxi had spun for them, and followed Mangtun to one of the four smaller tents for rehearsal. Their scripts waited for them on parchment rolls in a bamboo basket. As much as Daiwen tried to focus, the words fled from their mind like birds from a cage. On the fifth failed try, Mangtun lumbered off of them with an exasperated sigh.

Daiwen collapsed naked in the dirt sweating and heaving. Their mind remained as blank as a slate. The flush of shame returned before their breath.

“I’m s-sorry,” they panted into the dusty earth.

“Daiwen, I know you’re new to this, but are you even trying?”

They rolled onto their back, staring up at the tent top.

“I...no. I just can’t.”

“Why?”

The fabric quivered with borrowed life under the endless rain. The thin layer somehow kept the entire tent ground as dry as the ashes of a fire. Daiwen pushed up to sitting, half their body wearing the dust like a coat.

“I think there’s something I need to do first.”

“Go. Just go. Come back when you’re ready. If you’re ready,” growled the qiongqi, scaled wings flaring at the tips.

“I will,” they rasped.

Daiwen ran barefoot into the rain. They stood below the cold downpour, letting it wash them clean before heading back under the big top for their spider-silk sheath.

Yanxi had left a new garment on the next hangar, a hooded, waterproof jacket in Daiwen’s size. Daiwen blinked hard and pulled on the fitted silk with a watery smile. If any of the cityfolk had actually gotten to know the circus performers, they would never have suspected them of--the yaoguai.

Daiwen ran back into the downpour and through the trees. Mud splattered them to their knees and the branches whipped their chilled skin, but none pierced through the light, sturdy silk.

Daiwen ran and ran from the woods to the bridge to the millstone at the heart of the city. The exertion hit them as soon as they stopped. They collapsed to their knees in sight of the chained and shackled yaoguai.

Yesterday’s crowd had left their mark on the accused. Raw cuts and gashes had sprung up all over their hide. One solid black eye had swollen shut. It hadn’t lessened the heat of their glare.

The rain kept a new crowd from forming, but it would only hold out so long. Daiwen staggered back to the market stalls still bustling under their vibrant awnings. They broke a single gold coin into ten silvers and used one to the buy a set of fine needles and clean, sturdy thread. The waterproof basket was the most expensive item of the lot.

They returned to the yaoguai with the basket on one arm and the needle and thread in the other hand. The guards made no move as Daiwen approached the edge of the black-stained millstone. The yaoguai only raised their one working eye, narrowed and piercing.

“Please, let me help you.”

“Why?” they growled, their voice as deep and low as a rumble in the earth.

“Because I don’t care if you did it.”

“Stranger.”

“I am. Maybe you are, too.”

The yaoguai’s gaze remained wary, but the anger burned to embers. Daiwen climbed onto the millstone. They walked over and through the chains, closing the gap between them. Though the yaoguai sat cross-legged, the collar keeping their bull’s head low, their hulking mass loomed over Daiwen and radiated a wall of raw heat through the rain.

“This is going to hurt.”

The heavy metal clanked at the yaoguai’s shrug. Right, it couldn’t have been worse than what they’d faced at the hands of yesterday’s crowd. The yaoguai didn’t flinch for an instant as Daiwen’s needle threaded flesh. Daiwen quickly lost count of the sutures and minutes under the rain.

“Ah, beg pardon, what are you doing to my client?”

A pale, reedy citizen in fine gray robes and a storm gray umbrella adjusted their wire-rimmed spectacles at the...spectacle. Daiwen stared up at the yaoguai.

“You have a lawyer?”

“That is the law,” said the lawyer. “I am Esquire Kang Guitao (抗龜桃), he/him.”

“Daiwen, a friend.”

“The yaoguai doesn’t have any friends.”

“They do now.”

Daiwen could feel the yaoguai’s searing glare behind their shoulder. It wasn’t directed at them. Esquire Kang shrank under his umbrella, nodding hastily and adjusting his spectacles.

“Yes, well, I suppose we could all use friend. Though an alibi would be more helpful,” he muttered.

The yaoguai snorted dismissively. Daiwen looked up and back again.

“Do you want to die?”

“...no.”

“Then perhaps you should’ve thought of that before scattering your murders at the farthest corners of the countryside.”

The yaoguai roared into the rain-dark sky. The chains screeched and rattled under the strain. Esquire Kang and Daiwen fell onto their butts. 

The guards came running, heavy wooden saps in hand. Daiwen staggered to their knees. They threw their arms out in front of the yaoguai.

“No! Don’t!”

The guards grabbed them by the jacket and threw them off the millstone, out of the way of the beating. Daiwen screamed at them to stop, eyes blurring with angry tears as the saps broke and snapped their clean stitches. 

Despite the lawyer’s reedy build, he hooked his arms around Daiwen’s and dragged them away. He only let go when they reached a narrow alley. The stone balconies merely hand width’s apart caught most of the falling rain.

Esquire Kang leaned back against one wall. He removed his spectacles, flinging off the heaviest drops with a sharp flick. Daiwen slumped against the wall opposite, sitting on the rain-slicked cobblestones. His pitch black eyes softened over the straight edge of his spectacles.

“Making a scene isn’t going to help our case.”

“Is there anything I could do to help?”

“I--maybe.”

The sheer number of crimes blamed on the yaoguai had forced Esquire Kang to wade through a sea of ink and paper. He didn’t have time to visit any of the murder sites of himself. The worst of them were in the countrysides to the east and west of Laoshi City.

“I’ll go tomorrow. What should I look for?”

“Anything to prove a shred of innocence. I don’t know if the judges can be swayed, but a seed of doubt might be enough to...lessen the post-execution dishonorment.”

“Did the yaoguai do it?”

“There’s no doubt in my mind.”

“You’re defending them.”

“That is the law.”

\--/--

The rain had cleared by the time that Daiwen returned to the circus grounds. Mangtun raised his shaggy head off his paws, yawning off the last of a nap. Daiwen bowed to him stiffly from the waist.

“I’m sorry for my behavior earlier. If you’ll have me, I’m ready to try again.”

Mangtun lumbered toward them. He stopped in front of their lowered head. A hot, rough tongue gave their forehead a scraping lick through their new bangs.

“Take off your clothes.”

That night, Daiwen hopped into the spotlight wearing nothing but a thin layer of unsealed, red and white bodypaint over their skin. A silk headband held false fox ears to the top of their head. A false fox tail dangled from a rubber plug burrowed to the hilt in their tightly clenched ass. Their anal shaft twitched and threatened a mind-blanking spasm with their every prance and frolicking leap.

Daiwen landed on all fours in the dust. A massive, black-clawed paw pinned to the ground, nearly yanked the bulbed hilt of the plug from their anus. Daiwen yelped at the sudden pressure at the mouth of their hole. The qiongqi roared into their face. Their ears wilted at the force of their wind.

“Time to die, little fox.”

Daiwen shuddered but held their four-footed ground.

“How dare you, tiger. Don’t you know? I am they who Qi Zhong, God of Five, appointed to rule over all animals.”

The tiger, fiercest of all these animals, drew back from the fox in shock.

“This cannot be. You are so much smaller and weaker than I, barely the size of a cub.”

Daiwen shrugged and smirked over their shoulder.

“Walk behind me, and I’ll show you the truth of this world.”

Daiwen did their best to keep their smirk on as Mangtun’s hot, rough tongue rawed their crotch. Every time his head bumped against their plugging tail, Daiwen’s fingers and toes clawed the dirt to brace against their shivers. Colored sweat streaked fine trails through the paint and down their arms, legs, and back.

Mangtun’s tongue finally released their swollen cunt Enough slick leaked down their legs to strip the paint clear off their naked thighs. With a low, bodily growl, Mangtun pressed the fist-sized head of his cock to Daiwen’s dripping lips.

Daiwen gulped but hung on to their cheek-aching smirk. They gave Mangtun their tiniest nod.

The qiongqi walked over Daiwen, his striped, scaled legs surrounding them. The fur of his underside brushed the length of their naked back, color clinging and dropping from the tips as though off a paintbrush. Every step drove his dick deeper into Daiwen’s shaft. Their vaginal walls spasmed helplessly as his weight and girth forced them apart.

Daiwen strained and braced against the dirt floor, but the wracking in their cunt travelled down into their arms and legs. They trembled precariously, grunting through their clenched teeth.

The base of Mangtun’s knot knocked against their swollen mouth. Daiwen whimpered as piteous as a bitch. Mangtun stopped. He lowered his shaggy head down over their shoulder. His burning tongue lapped at their sweat-trailing neck.

Daiwen’s smirked shattered into open-mouthed huffs and grunts. They steeled their shaking limbs as best as they could. They crawled backward. The mouth of their vagina distended inward under the qiongqi’s massive knot, strained walls squeezing even tighter against the plug in their ass. Daiwen screamed.

Their hips bucked uncontrollably under Mangtun. All the strength drained from their limbs. They slumped forward, drooling into the dirt as they slid down Mangtun’s cock.

A single, black-clawed paw caught them under the ribs. It wrapped around their quivering sides. Mangtun screwed them slowly but unrelentingly back up the length of his cock and over his throbbing knot.

Every second of their hasty rehearsal flew from Daiwen’s mind. They screamed and screamed in raw, unbridled pleasure. Each buck of their hips and bow of their back worked Mangtun’s knot deeper into their wracking cunt. Then their scream choked off, their throat too raw and used to carry their voice over a whisper.

Mangtun growled straight from his furred underbelly into Daiwen’s quaking back. His paw pressed them flat to his burning ventral muscles. He walked forward, dragging their rigid limbs and curled toes through the dust.

The spotlight shifted onto a blur of shapes of colors--the other performers all dressed as animals. Daiwen’s couldn’t recognize them or what they were supposed to be in their current state. They had no hope of speaking their line.

“Ah, fuck,” Mangtun growled from his underbelly into their back.

He roared. The entire tent shook at the force of their wind. Cum exploded into Daiwen’s womb.

Daiwen could only manage the hoarsest squeak as Mangtun filled them with pump after pump of burning cum. The qiongqi hissed out a canine whine and eased Daiwen off their knot with a soft, wet pop. 

Daiwen’s eyes rolled to the back of their skull. The last thing they could remember was Mangtun laying them across the shaggy fur of his back to carry their cum-leaking body off-stage.


	7. Pick Flowers, Trample Grass

Chapter 7: Pick Flowers, Trample Grass (拈花惹草)

Daiwen dragged their aching body out of bed before dawn to get in a bath. The water was even colder than the air, but it was clean. They discovered that Yanxi had left yet another piece for their growing spider silk ensemble, soft fitted boots that pulled snug all the way up to their thighs. 

The boots were beautiful, and the craftsmanship was beyond anything that Daiwen, a professional seamster, had ever encountered in their admittedly tiny village. They thanked Yanxi on the way to breakfast. Yanxi grinned over her mandibles.

Mistress He assigned Daiwen to work with her that morning. Daiwen followed her fully-clothed into a different one of the four smaller tents. Neither Daiwen nor Mistress He made any move toward the rolled parchment scripts. The ringmaster frowned at Daiwen, arms crossed over her chest.

“You can go first.”

“There’s something have to do this morning.”

“Mother damn it, Daiwen! You fucked up last night, and I know it was because you shirked rehearsals.”

“I’m sorry--”

“This is a business--sorry isn’t gonna cut it.”

“I was helping the yaoguai--”

“Fuck the yaoguai! They’re a murderer who also, incidentally, hurt out business.”

“Please, just give me one more day.”

“Did you know it’s illegal for me to have you perform with us if you have no prior knowledge of the acts I need out of you?”

“No, but--”

“But what?”

“I can read. It only takes me fifteen minutes--”

“Fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes.”

Mistress He grabbed the scripts from the basket. She laughed and tore them to shreds. They drifted like snowflakes to the dirt floor.

“Fifteen minutes. Why’d I even bother writing these? Fifteen minutes. Tell you what. You take all the fucking time you want, just be back here fifteen minutes before the show. I’ll get you a script you can read real easy. How about that?”

Daiwen’s rice porridge breakfast curned to paste as coils of unease rolled up into their stomach. But the yaoguai needed them more than Mistress He. They steeled themself to the challenge, the threat.

“That sounds perfect. I’ll see you this evening.”

That steel turned to water as soon as they stepped out into the pouring rain. Their legs shook as they carried them east. All that kept them going was a single, hot coal of a mantra: they would show the ringmaster.

The village of Haosang (鎬磉) nestled six miles out from Laoshi City on a rice-terraced hill like a giant’s stair of grass and water. Wicker scarecrows on bamboo poles all painted in pitch to avoid the rain’s rot stared at their black reflections in the glassy surfaces of the paddies. 

The small gathering of farmhouses on the hilltop, each comprised of three stone halls surrounding an open stone courtyard (三合院), reminded Daiwen of their own village, only they’d had to rely on pitch-painted lumber.

Daiwen walked up the lonely stone road between the paddies. They stopped at the first sight of a farmer. Their broad-brimmed hat of tightly woven reeds kept the rain off their grim, deeply lined face. Though the farmer straightened to their full height, the only sound between them was the steady patter.

 

“I’ve been sent by the city to investigate a murder.”

“Follow me.”

Daiwen followed them to the far side of the hilltop to a three-halled house with a blue tent in its courtyard. A lantern hung from the top of the tent. Just as in their father’s funeral tent, a table stood to one side holding cut flowers, food offerings, and a bamboo cup full of dry rice to keep its sticks of smoking incense standing. The only difference was a doll of stuffed tarp without a hair or a face.

A child. The yaoguai had been accused of a child’s murder. It was heinous, a complete abomination, if true.

Two sallowed, doughy farmers rose from their seats in front of a cheap screen of painted heaven. White streaked their hair and wrinkles lined their sunken, shadowed eyes. 

“I’m sorry for you loss.”

The pair said nothing. One glanced back at the screen of heaven or perhaps the coffin behind it.

“Where did it happen?”

The pair walked out of the tent and into the courtyard without a word. Daiwen followed them. The rain lightened to scattered plinks as they walked down the hill to the glassy lake at its foot.

Black-boughed willows stood by the water’s edge. Their trailing leaves swayed out past the gravelly shore. The rain, though gentle, still knocked the willow’s white blossoms out into the lapping shallows.

The farmers pointed wordlessly to the base of the willow tree on a small, grassy rise over the gravel. Daiwen nodded in thanks and waded through the rain-rippled water. They stopped short of the willow at a wall of pure cold and stink of death. Their spine shivered involuntarily and their pulse quickened. Whatever happened here had left a presence.

Daiwen knelt at the base of the willow, looking out between the trailing leaves to the lake. The two farmers watched them from the bank, but Daiwen could no longer feel the weight of their eyes. They couldn’t even hear the plinking rain over the pounding in their ears. A third stare from the heart of the willow raised beads of sweat from the skin of their back.

Daiwen closed their eyes and let out a shaky breath. Their aura flared purple. They couldn’t hear their own croaked call.

“I know you see me. Come out, so I can see you too.”

The leaves of the willow only swayed under the falling rain. Daiwen’s breath steadied. Their pulse quieted until the plink of rain on water filtered back in. Daiwen steeled their spine and called again, quiet but firm.

“Come out, spirit, and I will bring you peace.”

The willow vibrated with the waking buzz of a hornet’s nest. Black smoke, radiating a burning heat, billowed out from the tree. The buzzing grew louder and louder as the smoke gathered into a dark cloud. A red eyeball, large as a fist, rolled out from the cloud. Then a second, a third, until six float in the burning, buzzing black.

One of the farmers screamed. Daiwen, throat as parched as a burning field, couldn’t speak. They held one sweating, shaking hand up to the burning, buzzing wraith.

The wraith opened a mouth like a burning torch and screeched. Its flame burst up to the treetop, torching the willow.

Daiwen shrieked and threw their arms over their face, but their trembling knees refused to move.

The wraith swooped down upon Daiwen, swallowing them in its buzzing, burning cloud. Thick smoke shot down Daiwen’s throat, into their ears and nose.

Daiwen fell to the ground wheezing and choking. Their fingers clawed the dirt. As darkness spread from the edges of their vision, light flared purple around them.

A cool wave of magic exploded out from Daiwen, ripping the buzzing, burning smoke from their throat. They reached out, one hand closing over the tail of the ghost cloud before it could blow away. The smoke writhed and burned between their fingers, but the buzz-shrieking wraith remained in place.

Daiwen coughed and huffed until they found their voice. They shouted over the buzz of a thousand hornets. Their voice echoed over the lake.

“You don’t belong here! Let me send you home!”

The wraith writhed and shrieked, but its tail was trapped in Daiwen’s necromantic grip. The cloud stilled. Six eyes met Daiwen’s. It opened its burning mouth and spoke with its insectoid buzz.

“There is no place for the undead.”

“You would have peace, at least.”

“I would have NOTHING.”

Daiwen shut their eyes, feeling the burning coils of smoke between their fingers. This was the shape of a life. They looked back at the wraith.

“Then I’m sorry, but I can only give you nothing.”

Daiwen squeezed their fist shut. A cool shot of magic flew from their arm into the cloud. The buzz-shrieking wraith burst apart into wisps of burning smoke. They vanished into the rain.

Daiwen slumped onto their hands and knees in the muddy grass. The two farmers ran to their side. They didn’t Daiwen, but they held their hands at the ready to catch or support. Daiwen gave them a watery smile.

“Will you testify for the yaoguai?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you.”

Daiwen pushed to their feet, a hollow pit gnawing at their stomach. Esquire Kang, Mistress He, everyone was wrong. The yaoguai was innocent. Despite the cover of rain, they blinked back bitter, burning tears.

\--/--

When Daiwen returned to Laoshi City, they spent a full piece of gold on a waterproof pocket watch. They returned to Mistress He’s rehearsal tent exactly fifteen minutes before the night’s show. Mistress He handed them the new script with a thin smile.

“Enjoy.”

Daiwen struggled to keep their face placid. When they spoke, their voice crawled out in a hoarse whisper.

“I don’t say anything.”

“No. In fact,” she pointed to a line in the script, “I ask you to remain completely silent, if you can manage it.”

“I can,” they replied, hollow and automatic.

“Excellent. Now get into costume.”

\--/--

The ringmaster bowed to the riotously cheering crowd. As she straightened, her outfit darkened and lengthened to ink black robes. The hat in her hands grew a broad brim and sharply pointed tip. She raised a finger to her lips. The tent dropped into taut silence.

“Ladies and gentlefolk, tonight we have for your viewing pleasure a cautionary tale of scholarly delight: Apprentice, Scroll.”

Yanxi in the tent top shifted the spotlight from the ringmaster to Daiwen seated on a cushion at a low table. Their paperthin costume resembled the long, elegant robes of a scholar. They held a short, cylindrical ink stick in hand.

Daiwen ground the inkstick in measured circles into an inkstone. The black grains flowed down into the clear water of the ink’s well. As Daiwen set down the stick and took up the goat-haired inkbrush, Mistress He walked into the spotlight wearing her sorcerer's hat. A tall scroll stood precariously in the pocket of her robe.

“My dear apprentice, my guests have arrived downstairs to see my latest magical marvel. I must ask for your complete silence so you do not disturb my concentration. Can you do that for me?”

Daiwen smiled and nodded under a slight sheen of sweat. The ringmaster smiled back.

“Thank you. I shall return in a few hours.”

She turned about face and marched into the darkness. The ridiculously tall scroll fell from her pocket. The crowd’s titters grew to ringing laughter as it unrolled, reading: ‘Spell for a Most Considerate Lover.’

Daiwen set down their brush, unstained, and tiptoed to the scroll. Their mouth opened to a little ‘o.’ They looked around hastily, cuping a hand to their ear. There was no sound save for the laughing crowd. Daiwen smiled, biting their lower lip, and kneeled behind the scroll with their face to the audience.

They undid the wooden toggles of their robe, one by one. They clutched the opened folds. After a quick look this way and that, they pulled the robes down their naked shoulders and pushed them off their bent knees.

Daiwen took a breath as deep as a diver’s and placed both hands on the scroll. The audience held their breaths with them. The silence stretched until the air thickened with prickling heat.

Daiwen watched wide-eyed as the ink rippled over the parchment. A thick, rubbery black tentacle rose up from the characters for ‘lover’ (情人). 

Daiwen offered a hand. The blunted tip of the tentacle bent toward them, a hair’s breadth from their fingers. They brushed the back of their fingertips across its heavy side, segmented like a worm’s.

The tentacle rose up under the line of their chin. Daiwen nuzzled the side of their face to its solid warmth. They closed their eyes and opened their mouth, one hand reaching between their knees.

The tentacle entered, stroking their tongue. Daiwen closed their mouth around its sides, sucking as they rubbed themself wet.

The ink rippled. A second tentacle rose from the scroll. It squeezed between their thighs, stroking both with its segmented sides. Daiwen shifted back onto both hands. Their head dropped back onto their shoulders, mouth open but silent.

Two more tentacles slithered up and around their wrists to their forearms, fixing their hands to the ground behind them. A fifth tentacle joined the one between their thighs. The first stopped stroking. The tentacles coiled around Daiwen’s bent legs, binding them tight. They dragged their knees apart through the dust, spreading Daiwen open to the crowd. Their flushed cunt dripped onto the scroll.

Twin tentacles rose from the parchment. As Dawien raised their head, the two twined around each other. Daiwen inhaled sharply around the tentacle in their mouth, only sucking it deeper into their throat. They coughed and sputtered on its thrusting weight.

The four tentacles on Daiwen’s limbs lifted them off the ground. They drew their hands straight back between their helpless feet, bowing their back. Daiwen snorted and huffed through their nose as the twined tips pushed through their dripping mouth. They screwed their way up Daiwen’s squelching shaft. Daiwen shook and bucked in silent torture, every fiber of their being straining to hold back their scream.

Two more tentacles rose and twined. Daiwen panted as they pressed against the puckered mouth of their ass. The tentacles entered with a slow but relentless stretch. Daiwen rattled like a leaf in the wind and leaked a splatter of slick. Their thrashing flicked drops of tears, snot, sweat, and drool off their wracked body.

A final tentacle rose. It bent double to a blunt end at the head of its black cylinder. It pressed flat over Daiwen’s clit and moved in a crushing circular grind.

Daiwen screamed around the tentacle in their throat, their cunt convulsing with orgasm upon orgasm. The writhed and thrashed in the grip of the tentacles, but the most considerate lover fixed them in place as it continued to pump and grind. Cum as black and oiled as ink spilled from their holes and mouth, painting a dark river from Daiwen’s lips to their anus.

The ringmaster ran back into the spotlight. She threw her hands up to either side of her gaping face. The tentacle pulled out of Daiwen’s mouth, letting the audience listen to the full range of their tortured, pleasured moan.

The four tentacles around their limbs lowered Daiwen back to the dirt floor. All withdrew back into the cum and slick stained parchment now more liquid than paper. Daiwen panted and squinted at the ringmaster with one eye through their curtain of sweat. The ringmaster shook her head.

“Rash apprentice! Did I not tell you to be silent?”

Daiwen nodded weakly, gulping saliva stained black and bitter with the tentacle’s inky cum.

“I have no need of an apprentice who can’t follow the simplest direction. Away with you.”

Daiwen picked themself up off the dirt floor, grasping their robes in one hand. They staggered out of the spotlight and collapsed in the darkness, insensible to the ringmaster’s closing words.

The three mogui in stage-ninja black picked Daiwen up between them and flew them to the washroom. When they offered their aid, Daiwen didn’t refuse. They sat still and let the mogui wash them clean while they seethed with shame and anger.


	8. Read the Web

Chapter 8: Read the Web (蛛 絲 馬 跡)

Daiwen found the finishing touch of their spider silk ensemble waiting for them on the rack the next morning: a perfectly fitted set of underwear. The sight cut through their bone-deep aches to put a smile on their face. It slipped off the instant that Mistress He’s perfectly manicured hand landed on their shoulder.

“Good morning, Daiwen.”

“Good morning, Mistress He.”

“Lovely, isn’t it?”

“Yanxi’s the finest seamstress I’ve ever met.”

“She’s a good friend, too.”

“Yes--”

“So don’t disappoint her. She’s your partner tonight. Rehearse with her. Don’t be the weak link that shames you both.”

“I understand.”

Only after Mistress He left for breakfast did Daiwen’s hands curl to fists. They smiled thanks at Yanxi at breakfast but ate their rice porridge in stony silence. They didn’t speak a word until they’d entered yet another of the four small tents. Yanxi had already spun a web from pole to pole overhead.

“Are you ready, Daiwen?”

“Yanxi, I’m very sorry, but I won’t be able to rehearse with you until this afternoon.”

Yanxi’s smile waned, her porcelain face falling inward.

“Daiwen, I don’t think that will be enough time--”

“It will be. Please trust me.”

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

“I’ll be back.”

\--/--

The village where most of the disappearances had occurred was only four miles west of Laoshi city but deep in the heart of the forest. The local constable brought Daiwen two miles further into the Mingdao Wood to the place where the body of one of the disappeared had been discovered, naked, wounded, and dead of the cold rain. 

As soon as Daiwen followed the constable into the grove of pine, bamboo, and plum, they walked into a second wall of unnatural cold. The presence was much weaker than yesterday’s. Daiwen knew without a shadow of a doubt that they would need to feed this languishing undead on spirit energies if they wanted to draw it out. Though bemused, the constable agreed to return to the village, leaving Daiwen and their necromancy alone in the grove.

Daiwen sat cross-legged in the dead leaves beneath the pelting rain. They closed their eyes. The tightly-clustered leaves rustled out scratchy whispers all around them.

They placed both hands on the damp, rotting leaves before them and let their aura flare. They could see the wreathing purple of their aura through their closed eyes. It spread out from them like a slow, cool fire and filled the grove from the canopy above to the rich decay below. The delicate life lines of every living being except for Daiwen within melted at the far ends at its touch.

“Hungry ghost, I’m here to feed you.”

White mist rolled up from between the roots of the trees at Daiwen’s call. As it sucked spirit energies through their aura, the ghost took an unnaturally thin but human shape. The ghost was faceless except for a mouth that could open no wider than a needle.

“I’ve helped you draw your fill. Please, help me.”

The ghost said nothing, but neither did it disappear back into the pines.

“You were kidnapped. Please, show me where you were taken.”

This time, the ghost did disappear between the pines. Daiwen scrambled to their feet. The ghost poked their faceless head out between the dark green spines. 

Daiwen followed them further into the woods and the rain to a squat, stone-block windmill. Its clay tile roof had collapsed at one corner for a gaping, bite-like hole. The iron blade of the windmill from the same corner had vanished, leaving nothing but a rusted pole. The last three rusted blades point down toward the wooden door, new and locked.

The ghost passed through the pitch-painted wood. Daiwen removed their jacket, laid it over the nearest window, and broke the glass. They crawled over and into a large stone room full of workbenches and shelves lined with shriveled creatures in pieces suspended in different colored liquids. The air was heavy with the stench of spoiled food and acrid chemicals.

An iron ladder at the back of the room lead to a door in the ceiling. The ghost’s misty feet vanished through the cracks to the second floor. Fortunately, this door wasn’t locked.

The second floor held nothing but a pitch-painted cabinet against the wall. Dark stains ran from a puddle under the cabinet’s squat legs to a metal drain, new, in the thick stone floor. The room was as cold as the dead of winter and only grew colder as Daiwen approached the cabinet doors. They let out a shaky breath between their chattering teeth and opened the cabinet.

Daiwen threw both hands over their mouth to keep from screaming. Human skins and faces hung like rubbery suits from wire hangers. The needle-mouthed ghost nodded wordlessly. Daiwen couldn’t look close enough to pick out the features.

They staggered back from the cabinet, bile rising in their throat. Their heel stepped on air. Daiwen screamed and fell through the door in the floor. Their flailing arms slammed the iron ladder. Their hands were too sweaty to land a grip, but Daiwen slid and slowed.

They hit the stone floor feet-first and rolled back onto their butt and side. They laid still while the feeling prickled back into their limbs. Everything hurt, bruises blooming on their side, but they hadn’t broken anything. They winced and grunted but crawled up to their feet.

Two large, hulking figures stood in the shadows of the doorway. The first held a dripping axe in one hand. The second held something like a metal club with a spiked head at its end. The two grinned at their unarmed intruder.

“I’ve been looking for something to wear to the trial.”

The fear and the pain were too much. Daiwen whimpered and vomited.

“Ooo, disgusting. Let’s get’em.”

The two charged at them. Daiwen screamed. The two grabbed their arms and slammed Daiwen to the ground. Purple flared.

Rubbery skins and faces flew down from trapdoor. They wrapped around the first and the second’s heads. The two dropped their weapons, screaming and clawing into the reanimated flesh. The skins continued to wrap and squeeze.

Daiwen sat up. They watched with nothing but contempt as the two banged into their own worktables and fell to the floor. It would be hard to explain to Esquire Kang or anyone else how they’d managed to smother both murderers. Daiwen picked up the first’s axe.

\--/--

Though not their intention, Daiwen returned to Yanxi’s rehearsal tent at exactly a quarter till showtime. Daiwen threw off their clothes, red-faced and panting, to reveal a second skin of sweat over a map of bruises. They looked around wildly for the script.

Yanxi descended from the web above on a sturdy line of silk. She held both rolls of parchment in her forelegs.

“You’re late,” she said flatly, tossing one to Daiwen.

Daiwen dived for it. For their effort, they landed face-first in the dust, both hands empty. The script rolled across the ground and stopped under the toe of a knife-heeled boot.

Mistress He picked up the script. She unrolled it and gave the lines a little smile. The last rays of daylight filtered in through the opened tent flaps around her, passing through the thin paper.

“How was the rehearsal?”

Daiwen tore their eyes off the script to make a wordless plea over their shoulder. Yanxi’s eight eyes never left the ringmaster’s.

“We’re ready,” she said, “but I want to run through it one more time just to be safe. They have have all the luck, amateurs, but nothing beats practice in the long run.”

“Show me what you’ve got.”

Yanxi’s eyes finally flicked to Daiwen’s. Daiwen pushed up to their feet. As they dusted off their spider silk, they gave the phase spider a little wink.

“War. War never changes.

“The Empire of Yixing (意星) waged war for discovery and conquest. Shu (殊) built an empire from its lust for gold and power. The Empire of Leng Wa (崚凹) reshaped the broken Kingdoms of Shu into an economic superpower.

“But war never changes.

“In ten years time, war would wage again over the resources that could be acquired. Only this time, the spoils of war were also its weapons: skymetals and magic. The storm of world war had come again to Tian-Xia (天下). In two brief hours, most of the continent was reduced to cinders. And from the ashes of magical and technical devastation, the last two warriors on the battlefield would fight for their lives.”

Daiwen’s mother had taught them their characters. And the light passing through the paper was just enough to throw the inken shapes into sharp contrast.

Mistress He blinked but smile. She rolled up the script and handed it back to Daiwen.

“You have time. Keep practicing.”

She walked out without another word. Daiwen pumped their fists in the air with a triumphant crow. The noise died on their lips at the sight of Yanxi.

“I’m sorry--I know I said--”

“Right.”

The professional and the amateur began their long put-off practice.

\--/--

The spotlight dropped straight on Daiwen at one edge of its curve in woven, costume armor. The three mogui at the other edge sharing the helm, armored jacket, and armored pants of a single warrior. Daiwen brandished a gleaming blade in both hands. Leiting, the warrior’s torso, brandished one of their own.

Daiwen roared in challenge. Ailing, the warrior’s head, roared back. Daiwen and Leiting set their swords. The two warriors charged at each other. Daiwen slashed twice as they crossed paths, high and low. The head, torso, and legs flew apart, but the torso flew sword-first into Daiwen.

Daiwen staggered back, Leiting’s sword pinned under their arm with the rigid torso still attached. Daiwen fell to their knees, their loose helm rolling off through the dust.

The enemy’s fingers finally released their deathgrip on the hilt of their blade. The torso dropped to the ground. Daiwen, with the tip of the sword still protruding out behind them, fell back. Their head lolled over their shoulder to the face audience with an unseeing stare.

Yanxi scuttled into the spotlight. She picked up Paopao in the armored pants and shook them over her open mandibles. She sighed and tossed him into the darkness. The mogui flew away.

Yanxi picked up Aili in the helm next. She shook her and, finding her empty, tossed her as well. Yanxi finally reached Leiting only a few paces from Daiwen. As the spider tossed the torso, the blade buried in Daiwen flashed in the light. Yanxi scuttled closer.

Daiwen, with their own deathgrip on a sword, pointed their blade at the giant spider.

“Take one more step and I’ll kill you, spider.”

“You’re dying, but you would kill me, too?”

“I will die a warrior with my sword in my hand and bringing death to my enemies.”

“I am no enemy. I am a simple spider heavy with young. If I don’t eat, I will die and my children will never be born. You’re dying. Please, let me drink before you give all your blood to the dirt.”

“Never! Never!”

Daiwen’s hand shook around their own hilt. The sword fell from their fingers. Daiwen gasped, eyes wide in sheer terror. They threw their limp-wristed arms over their face. But the spider didn’t move.

Daiwen lowered their arms. Their eyes focused on the crowd.

“The spider could kill me. Why don’t they? But if they did, I couldn’t hold my sword. I couldn’t fight. I couldn’t die a warrior’s death. I’d be at their mercy. No...I already am at their mercy.”

Daiwen shut their eyes. They howled through their clenched teeth. With the last of their strength, they ripped their costume armor open over their chest. Their arms fell limp to their sides.

“Do your worst, spider.”

Yanxi scuttled over Daiwen. She hooked the claws of her forelegs under Daiwen’s armpits and lifted them into the air until their eyes were level with hers and their feet dangled off the ground.

“You haven’t died until you’ve died to a spider.”

Yanxi raised Daiwen’s chest to her mouth. Her mandibles squeezed their breast, digging into the skin. Her sticky, hollow tongue flicked and teased the nipple with a wet suck. Daiwen whimpered, fingers clenching and unclenching at their sides as they struggled to stay limp in Yanxi’s claws.

The spider’s mandibles opened wide into a face-splitting grin. She turned Daiwen upside down and passed them through her many, costume-ripping legs to the fleshy vaginal furrow on the underside of her abdomen. Daiwen set their mouth against Yanxi’s slipping their tongue into the soft, ribbed folds.

Yanxi’s claws pulled raw, sticky silk from her spinnerets down the length of Daiwen’s naked body to their feet. Without moving Daiwen off her quivering cunt, Yanxi wrapped them in silk from the toes up. The strands bound their feet, legs, and hips tightly together without any gaps except for a single, narrow band from Daiwen’s clit to the mouths between their legs.

The spider continued to wrap above their hips. She pulled Daiwen’s arms in a cross over their body, their hands on opposite sides of their waist and bound them there. She stopped the strands of cocooning silk under Daiwen’s jaw until she came with a splurge of weirdly sweet, honeyed slick into Daiwen’s mouth.

Yanxi pulled Daiwen out from under her. She held the warrior’s face, straining to maintain their pride, to the crowd. Then the spider wrapped bands of silk into Daiwen’s mouth and around their face. Daiwen let out a muffled roar and struggled to free themself, but the cocoon’s sticky silk only tightened its hold on every inch of their skin.

The spider bent Daiwen’s legs, curling their knees to their chest and bound them there. Daiwen felt rather than saw Yanxi’s claw, curled to a smooth, solid sphere the size of an apple, push between their reddened lips. The silk bound their screams to whines and their thrashing to quivers.

They were at the spider’s mercy and the spider had none. She rubbed a second, open claw in Daiwen’s steady spurts of slick. She hooked the curled tip of her claw in Daiwen’s ass, crushing the stretched, shared wall of their shafts against her own balled claw. The silk restrained their every screaming twitch and spasm.

Yanxi, holding Daiwen’s balled body aloft on her limbs like a slick-leaking puff of cotton candy, squeezed her long, hollow tongue between Daiwen’s tightly pressed, trembling thighs and up to their clit. Her tongue worked Daiwen’s clit to a throbbing dance. Jolts of pleasure lanced into their helplessly curled body. They screamed into the slick cumming again and again until their entire body sagged limp on Yanxi’s impaling limbs, a river of slick running between their legs.

The spider raised the drained warrior to the crowd. The spotlight went out over them. Yanxi eased Daiwen off her pales and carried them by the silk out back. Her mandibles zipped clean and swift up the cocoon. She peeled the gluey layer off Daiwen’s sodden body. Daiwen gave her a weary but genuine grin.

“Yeah! We did it!”

Yanxi’s face fell from concern to a blank, unsmiling stare.

“You’re just lucky you didn’t have a panic attack, amateur.”

She scuttled off to her tent, leaving Daiwen in speechless, stomach-gnawing reflection.


	9. Lose the Horse

Chapter 9: Lose the Horse (北叟失馬)

Breakfast was a silent, awkward affair made more silent and awkward by Yanxi getting up from her seat when Daiwen sat beside her. Daiwen couldn’t manage more than a few spoonfuls of porridge with the guilt and shame roiling their stomach.

Daiwen left the breakfast table with Motou and Langhai, the two horse-skull-headed mamians. They entered the final of the four small tents, whose rehearsal space looked identical to the three others. Neither the familiarity of the space nor the novelty of the script could help Daiwen get their head in the game. After three listless runs, the mamians simply called a time out.

“Alright team, bring it in,” said Motou, opening their arms for a huddle.

“That was the un-sexiest thing I’ve ever had to stick my dick in,” Langhai whined through their skeletal nostrils before turning directly to Daiwen. “Are you sure you’re supposed to be here right now?”

“Yes.”

The yaoguai’s trial was today, but there was no real reason for Daiwen to be there. In fact, after so many citizens of Laoshi City had seen them in the circus, both Daiwen and Esquire Kang agreed that it’d be better for them not to attach the yaoguai’s defense to a circus clown.

“Well, Daiwen, I think we can all agree that you’re not feeling it this morning.”

“It feels like I’m fucking a corpse--”

“Ok, thanks for that observation, Langhai. Daiwen, what can we do to help get you there?”

“I--yeah--you guys are great, but I really messed up with Yanxi yesterday--”

“That was yesterday! Today is today--just forget about all that stuff from breakfast.”

“Daiwen, come sit with me. Langhai--”

Langhai dropped to a cross-legged seat in the dust. Motou sighed, nodded, and sat themself. Daiwen sat at the third point of their thinking triangle. Daiwen gave them the full context of their fallout with the phase spider who’d been so warm and generous to them.

“And you guys are leaving the day after tomorrow--”

“Tomorrow night.”

“Shit. I don’t want to leave with this between.”

“So come with us,” said Langhai.

“I can’t. I have to get home.”

“To the other Shenmen, riiight--”

Motou swatted Langhai’s muscled, short-haired shoulder.

“Ow.”

“Let’s think. We’re circus folk. We’re pretty dramatic. Maybe what Yanxi needs is some grand, apologetic gesture.”

Daiwen sprang to their feet with a show of inspiration.

“Motou, I could kiss you.”

“I think that’d be overdoing,” said Langhai, pushing to their hooved feet along with Motou.

“Do what you need to do and then bring that energy back here.”

Daiwen ran through the rain to the back of the big top where they kept all the costume fabrics with their sewing kit in hand. Yanxi didn’t like clothes, but there were other things that Daiwen could sew. They ransacked the discard pile for every scrap of colorful tent tarp they could find.

Three hours later, Daiwen sidled through the flaps of Yanxi’s rehearsal tent with a large race sack over their shoulder. The phase spider hung at the center of the tent on a sturdy line of silk. She spun two long sheets of web, one on each foreleg. They were so fine that they were nearly translucent. Yanxi frowned at the intrusion but kept on spinning.

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“I didn’t come to force you to talk. I just wanted to give you this.”

Daiwen set the rice sack down on the dirt floor. They pulled out a rag-stuffed doll of tarp about the size of a farm dog. They’d sewn two black, if mismatched, buttons for eyes and a whole smile’s worth of mismatched, multicolored buttons for a mouth over the doll’s red, yellow, pink, and green patchwork of skin. 

Yanxi stopped spinning.

“What’s that?”

“A punching bag shaped like me,” said Daiwen, spreading their arms and legs in doll-like stiffness.

“A punching bag…?”

“I’m sorry about yesterday--”

“Daiwen, I don’t want to punch you.”

“Punching something like me might make you feel better.”

“Trust me, it won’t. Please take that thing out of here.”

“But--”

Yanxi shook her head, mandibled lips pressed tight. She went back to spinning her webs.

Daiwen returned to the mamians’s tent with the punching doll on their back. They leaned it in a seat against a tentpole.

“Hey, that’s cute,” said Langhai.

“Thanks. I’m ready to practice.”

“Are you sure?” asked Motou.

Daiwen flung and kicked off their spider silk to haphazard reaches of the tent. Their jacket whacked the over-sized doll in the face. It toppled over, pudgy legs in the air. Daiwen shrugged and clapped their palms together. They didn’t need its button eyes judging anyway.

“Let’s go.”

\--/--

“There was once an old farmer, the talk of the town, because they used to read stories to their horse.”

As the ringmaster narrated from the darkness, the spotlight faded in over Langhai on all fours, naked except for their natural, short-haired hide. Daiwen walked into the spotlight with an oversized book in their face, a wide-brimmed hat on their head, and wearing a much flimsier version of a farmer’s simple tarp clothes.

“Evening, old friend. I’m gonna read you the tale of two runaway lovers.”

Daiwen laid down in the dirt on their stomach, propped up by their elbows. Langhai came up behind them and straddled the back of their legs. They ripped a line through Daiwen’s clothes from the small of their back to the bottom, cupped curve of their ass. As Daiwen read, Langhai stood up on their knees and started to pump their cock.

“‘Our parents would never approve. We must run away!’”

A single drop of precum landed on Daiwen’s bare backside. They shivered, hands tightening on the sides of the book. They didn’t need a glance back to recall the mamian’s flat-headed cock, the length and girth of a forearm. They continued to read as Langhai pressed the head of their oiled dick to Daiwen’s mouth.

“It was settled. That night at midnight, the lovers r-rahh! R-ran!” Daiwen squealed and huffed.

Behind them, their shaft squelched shamelessly as Langhai’s dick forced their walls apart. Daiwen read through a curtain of sweat, grunting through clenched teeth as the mamian sheathed themself deeper and deeper with every pump. The raw, merciless stretch wracked their walls with spasm after spasm.

Daiwen spat to the side of the book to clear the drool Langhai forced up into their mouth. Langhai grabbed their head by their sweat-dampened locks and railed Daiwen to the womb, slapping their trapped ass like the flank of a horse. Daiwen screamed and bucked under them. They only ground their cunt into the dirt and knocked the tight hole of their womb again and again against the head of Langhai’s dick.

Their scream cut off, choked away by the rawness in their throat. Daiwen collapsed, kept up only by Langhai’s grip on their hair. Langhai laid them down with their head on the sweat-splattered pages for a pillow. They pulled out of Daiwen with a squelching pop and snuck out of the spotlight on the tips of their hooves.

The ringmaster snapped her fingers. The sound of a cock’s crow filled the big top. Daiwen dragged themself up on trembling legs. They looked around and cupped both hands around their mouth.

“Old friend! Old friend!” they rasped.

Their broken call, magically amplified by the ringmaster, hung in the empty air. The three mogui dressed as fellow farmers entered the spotlight.

“We’re sorry to hear you lost your horse.”

Daiwen shrugged.

“Maybe it’s for the best.”

Daiwen walked to the edge of the spotlight, exposing their bared backside. The audience laughed. The three mogui pointed and laughed with them.

“That old farmer, what a fool!”

As they laughed, Langhai galloped back into the spotlight with Motou beside them wearing a fine saddle on their back. The mogui pointed and gaped. They flew back and away from the spotlight as though blown away.

Langhai and Motou galloped one more circle slowed to a stop before Daiwen. Daiwen gasped and threw their arms around Langhai’s warm, muscled neck.

“Old friend! You came back! And you’ve brought a new friend!”

Motou lowered their skeletal head. Daiwen stroked the long, cool length of their skull. They pulled Motou and Horsey into a hug with a joyous laugh.

“Tonight, you’ll hear a story for friends old and new!”

The spotlight went out. One short scuffle later, Yanxi in the tent top pulled the black sack off the giant lantern. Daiwen stood at the center of the spotlight, storybook in hand, with their profile to the audience.

“The lovers never realized that their parents had known all along.”

Motou entered the spotlight from the curve facing Daiwen without their saddle. Langhai entered from the curve behind them. As Daiwen read, they approached on all fours. Motou set the fabric of Daiwen’s shirt between their teeth. Langhai bit the torn fabric of their pants. Together, they yanked the costume off of them. Daiwen just barely managed to keep hold of the book.

The mamians stood, revealing the full length of their erections to the crowd. They approached once more. Daiwen set the storybook on Motou’s short-coated chest and continued to read.

“They found the lovers and brought them back, locking them in towers on opposite sides of the great br-mmph.”

Motou held Daiwen’s waist. Langhai hooked their arms between Daiwen’s legs. They picked Daiwen up just high enough for Motou to set their cock at the mouth of their cunt and Langhai to set theirs under their anus. They pushed Daiwen’s holes down slow over their solid shafts, impaling Daiwen on their dicks.

Daiwen, sweating with concentration, panted to catch their breath, but the slightest bump between their legs knocked all the wind from their crushed lungs. Their grunts turned to hoarse, needy whines as Motou and Langhai rammed Daiwen faster and faster.

Daiwen slammed the book against Motou’s chest, bracing with a screech as they came, spurting slick on all three pairs of legs. Motou and Langhai held their bucking, bowing body steady, Langhai pressing the smooth length of their skull against Daiwen’s arching back. The mamians lowered themselves to their knees with Daiwen trembling between them.

Motou shifted their grip to Daiwen’s sides. They laid back in the dust, guiding Daiwen over them, breasts swaying over the storybook. Langhai stood on their knees behind them. They grabbed Daiwen’s arms and pulled them back, forcing Daiwen’s back into an upward curve. Every thrust up their ass sent shuddering pleasure curling up Daiwen’s spine.

“Th-they burned the br-br-ahhngh! Ahhngh! Ahhngh!”

Motou grabbed Daiwen’s hips, forcing them down until theyir cunt swallowed their dick to the hilt. Their clit ground against Motou every time Langhai drove into their ass. Daiwen screeched and thrashed, but they were helpless to their own pleasure in the mamians’s iron grip.

Their orgasm after convulsing orgasm finally pulled the mamians into climax with them. Burning hot cum filled their spasming shafts. Langhai pulled out first. Their cock continued to pump their sticky cum onto Daiwen’s back.

Langhai pulled Daiwen onto their shaking knees with their back against Langhai’s sweat-dampened chest. Langhai leaned back, exposing Daiwen’s face and chest to the audience.

Motou pulled out from under Daiwen and stood with their cum-pumping cock in hand. They let their incompatible seed spurt onto Daiwen’s chest and face. Daiwen reached up with one hand and weakly pulled the tip of Motou’s cock into their mouth. The mamian’s cum was bitter as a human’s but stickier and gamey like venison.

When Motou finished shooting cum, they wrapped their fingers in Daiwen’s hair and pulled Daiwen’s mouth free. Daiwen gasped. They gave the crowd a spent smile.

“The end!” they croaked.

The spotlight went out. Daiwen collapsed against Langhai, smearing Langhai’s cum between them. Motou let out a soft, nickering laugh and scooped Daiwen up in their arms. The three moseyed off to the washroom together.

Their long soak in wooden tubs didn’t end until well after the grand finale. As they drained the cleaned the tubs of the sudsy water, a throat cleared from the washroom entrance. The wiry, spectacled Esquire Kang stood in the doorway, eyes well averted from their towel-clad bodies.

“Oh, hello. Did you like the show?” asked Daiwen, continuing to scrub.

“I was cannon-blasted out of my comfort zone.”

“Great!” said Langhai.

“That’s not really why I came--”

“We sell fresh underwear at the concession stand,” said Motou.

Esquire Kang gaped, his entire face flushing a deep beet red. Daiwen and the mamians laughed, not unkindly. Motou pat the speechless lawyer’s arm.

“Sorry, we know what you meant. Go on.”

“Er-right,” he gulped, adjusting his glasses. “I’m here to invite all of you to the courthouse tomorrow.”

“Thanks, but no thanks,” said Langhai. “I don’t want to see anybody getting ground up by millstones.”

“Actually, Daiwen’s helped gather very compelling evidence in my client’s favor.”

“You mean the real killer’s still out there?!” Langhai whinnied.

“Likely not.”

Not after Daiwen had hacked at the two of them with their own ax.

“Then thank you,” said Motou. “I’ll be sure to pass it onto the ringmaster.”

Daiwen nodded vaguely but said nothing. As soon as the lawyer left, the mamians high-fived Daiwen and galloped off in their towels to tell Mistress He.

Despite the good news and the exhaustion from the night’s performance, Daiwen couldn’t sleep. It might’ve been the button eyes of the punching doll that watched them from the foot of their cot. Daiwen got up, careful not to wake the others. They grabbed the doll and their sewing kit and headed for the scrap room.


	10. Dream of the Butterfly

Chapter 10: Dream of the Butterfly (莊周夢蝶)

The next morning, the entire circus came to town in their costumed best. The ringmaster in her tall hat and tails crossed the bridge at the front of the procession pumping her red umbrella into the rain as she marched. The qiongqi lumbered behind her. Though unclothed, Mangtun had brushed a shine into his striped fur and oiled a gleam into his scaled wings. Yanxi behind him was naked as well save for the nearly translucent silk sashes that wrapped and flowed around the phase spider. They caught the rain in glittering, star-like beads.

The mogui flew together under a single umbrella. Aili wore a butterfly-print sheath, Leiting wore moth-print, and Paopao wore dragonfly-print. Motou, Daiwen, and Langhai walked single-file behind them. Motou carried a blue umbrella and wore fancy blue overalls. Langhai carried a red umbrella and wore fancy red overalls. Daiwen used the hood of their spider silk jacket in place of an umbrella.

The citizens of Laoshi City stared as the circus paraded up to the courthouse, but there was no longer any hostility or suspicion in their faces, only curiosity and even delight. A crowd gathered behind Langhai at the back and followed them right into the plaza. The marketplace burst into cheers and applause. The citizens were on the verge of throwing confetti if not for the rain.

Mistress He popped a finger gun at the heavy, varnished red doors of the courthouse.

“Boom.”

The doors flung themselves open. Esquire Kang jumped and hurried into the aisle. He escorted them to a well-worn wooden pew at the front of the court just behind him and his client. Though the yaoguai still wore the heavy iron collar, they’d been freed of their chains. They dwarfed the defense’s desk from their seat.

The yaoguai managed to turn their head just enough for one burning black eye to meet Daiwen’s. They opened their mouth to speak, but the lawyer nudged his client’s shoulder.

An elderly judge in fine navy silk and a black miter hat with two stiff ribbons stretching from either side shuffled through the black curtains of a circular doorway. The very venerable justice took a seat behind their desk, facing the court. The room fell into a thick, prickling silence that sucked the sound even from the falling rain.

“I have heard the evidence, and thank Qi Zhong’s balance I did. Like the rest of this city, I too was prepared to lay the blame of these crimes on the yaoguai. There are many cruelties in the world, but to warp the gods own justice is the most terrible of sins. No, the yaoguai is innocent.”

The packed courthouse burst into roaring applause. Everyone rose to their feet, Yanxi and Mangtun sprawling over several pews. Esquire Kang turned with a laugh and open arms to Daiwen. 

Daiwen hopped the bench and tackled him with an embrace. The yaoguai pulled both of them into a crushing group hug against their burning hide. Daiwen and Esquire Kang wheezed and laughed. The yaoguai suddenly released them.

The old judge stood before them with a heavy iron key in hand. The yaoguai lowered their bull’s head, horns still towering over the judge. The collar opened with a clunk. The yaoguai handed it off to the judge, Esquire Kang springing to their aid before their venerable hands dropped the thing. They raised their arms with a triumphant, court-shaking roar.

The crowd roared with them. Yanxi and Mangtun picked up the yaoguai and sent them crowd-surfing out of the courthouse and into the free air. Esquire Kang and Daiwen followed on the waves of the cheering crowd. The whole circus flew or surfed out to join them in the plaza.

Mistress He clapped a hand on the yaoguai’s arm and the lawyer’s shoulder.

“On behalf of the greatest show in Shenmen, congratulations to you both! Here, two passes to our final show and a banquet with the cast and crew afterward.”

Esquire Kang and the yaoguai had barely finished thanking the ringmaster when she turned to the troupe and clapped her hands.

“Alright everyone, back for rehearsals. Go, go, go!”

Daiwen gave the two a shrug and a smile and headed out with the circus.

\--/--

The spotlight opened on all of the circus performers lying head-to-foot in a ring on the dirt stage. They were naked except for a connecting silk harness strapped with thick bands around their torsos and thighs. Mistress He sat up at the head of the curve and sang into the quiet.

“I am not a stranger to the dark...”

She rose to her feet. One by one, the rest of them pushed up to all fours--Mangtun, Yanxi, Aili, Leiting, Paopao, Motou, Daiwen, and Langhai.

“But I won't let them break me down...”

Mistress He grabbed her bare ass and spread her cheeks. Mangtun buried his shaggy face in her ass. Yanxi buried her porcelain, mandibled face in his. The others followed suit, Daiwen nuzzling and tonguing Motou’s anus while Langhai’s tongue found theirs.

“I make no apologies, this is me.”

Mistress He flung her arms wide. Every ounce of weight sucked out from the troupe. The ringmaster floated up into the air. They floated up straight behind her between the taut lines of their harnesses, mouths never leaving the asses to which they were joined. 

Langhai locked their forearms around Daiwen’s thighs and drove their long, thick tongue even deeper up their anus, skeletal muzzled pushing Daiwen’s holes inward. Daiwen grunted and moaned into Motou’s twitching asshole.

“Oh-oh-oh-oh.”

Mistress He turned a slow circle at the height of the tent, turning the others under her. Yanxi threw two rolls of silk up to the ringmaster, who caught and unrolled them down the lines of the harnesses. The long, nearly translucent sheets of silk completely covered the performers. They clung tight so that the audience could see every shift and shudder of their rimming.

“And reaching for the sun, we are warriors...”

Mistress He spread her arms wide once more. The silk sheets opened outward, spreading in the shape of butterfly wings to the far reaches of the big top.

“We are glorious!”

Rainbows of liquid color ran from Mistress He’s arms down the length of the wings. Daiwen’s legs, pinned on either of Langhai’s shoulders, trembled. Without the others’s tantric mastery, they were helpless to their spasming pleasure. Daiwen screamed into Motou’s ass as their own shaft squeezed tight on Langhai’s tongue filling them like a thick, wriggling shit.

“I make no apologies, this is me!”

The cannons boomed. The other performers came at the same time, shooting cum into the rain of colorful confetti. The audience screamed and cheered.

\--/--

Esquire Kang and the yaoguai came to the show. They came to the dinner as well. The lawyer sat between Daiwen and Mistress He. The yaoguai sat between Daiwen and Yanxi. After dinner, they stayed beside Daiwen, sporting their punching doll backpack, at the edge of the circus ground with the rest of the troupe. The rain had stopped.

Mistress He walked out from the gathering with a conductor’s baton in hand. As she raised her baton, Mangtun, Yanxi, the mogui and the mamians sang softly into the cool night.

“Oh-oh-oh-oh  
This is me.”

Mistress He pointed at the circus grounds and flicked her baton upward. Every stake popped out of the ground. The five tent tarps pulled off the tent posts like colorful skins and rose into the air.

“This is who I'm meant to be, this is me.”

Every piece of equipment that wasn’t bolted down followed the tent skins up into the air above the clearing. They gathered into tightly packed bundles under the tarps.

“Look out 'cause here I come  


Mistress He snapped her baton at the tent poles. The long, sturdy poles of bamboo and lumber rose up from the ground as though on strings from above. They folded onto themselves into floating rafts under the tarp bundles.

“I'm gonna send a flood.”

She lowered her baton. The five rafts floated down until they were only a leg’s length above the ground. The ringmaster turned, grinning and bowing with a flourish. Daiwen, Esquire Kang, and the yaoguai stirred themselves from sheer wonderment to applaud. Mistress He put her baton away and took Daiwen’s hand.

“This is goodbye.”

“Mistress He, Aili, Leiting, Paopao, Mangtun, Motou, Langhai, Yanxi--thank you so much. For everything.”

“It was a pleasure to have you, Daiwen. I sincerely hope we’ll meet again.”

Mistress He snapped her fingers. The performers and the floating rafts followed her onto the stone road, all but Yanxi.

“Daiwen...you should really be more careful in your work, especially when you’re doing full-body bondage. But you also saved a life, so I can’t really hold that against you.”

Daiwen’s vision blurred with burning tears, their voice choked from their throat. The phase spider scooped them up into a many-legged hug.

“Alright, I gotta go. You be good.”

She scuttled off after the circus, leaving Daiwen, Esquire Kang, and the yaoguai in the desolate clearing. The lawyer adjusted his spectacles.

“Daiwen, if you don’t have anywhere to go, I could use a trusty assistant.”

“Thanks, but I have to go home. Do either of you know where I could find a spirit gate?”

“My father,” said the yaoguai, drawing their stares. “He didn’t sire me. He made me. He knows many things. I’ll take you.”

“Thank you. Esquire Kang…”

Daiwen offered their hand. He took it.

“Thank you for your help. Take care, Daiwen.”

“I will.”

The starless night sky rumbled, its unbroken sea of clouds pregnant with rain. With one last wave to the lawyer, Daiwen followed the yaoguai into the woods.


	11. Wind from an Empty Cave

Chapter 11: Wind from an Empty Cave (空穴來風)

After an hour of plodding through the woods, the rain, and the mud, Daiwen’s strength began to wane. They jogged up to the yaoguai to keep from shouting and drawing the attention of the Mingdao Wood’s nightlife, but their foot snagged a root. Daiwen yelped and fell face first into wet leaves and wetter mud.

The yaoguai finally stopped. They yanked Daiwen up by the back of their jacket. Daiwen wiped their face on their sleeve and spat liquid earth.

“Ugh, thanks.”

“Are you ready to continue?”

“I’m not. I can’t walk another step.”

“We can’t stop here.”

“I’m sorry, but I have to stop.”

“I know a cave,” the yaoguai pointed off the beaten stone path. “I’ll carry you.”

A cave was a definite step up from camping out in the rain.

“Ok.”

But rather than heft Daiwen into a carrying position, the yaoguai set them down. They dropped to all fours, leaving them roughly the size of an actual bull.

“Climb on.”

Daiwen had never ridden any animal, much less a large, hulking bull. They threw their arms as far across the yaoguai’s broad shoulders as they could. They dug their fingers into the firm muscles and jumped, legs scrambling off the yaoguai’s side. 

Daiwen couldn’t keep their grip on the short, sleek coat in the heavy rain. They squealed and slipped down the yaoguai’s side.

They didn’t land back in the mud. The yaoguai’s arm shot out and caught Daiwen’s jacket. They tossed Daiwen up and over. Daiwen landed stomach first and breathless across the yaoguai’s back, arms and legs dangling over either side.

Daiwen shifted to lock their arms around the yaoguai’s muscled neck. Their legs straddled the yaoguai’s back, but they were too broad for Daiwen sit properly. They could only squeeze their legs as best as they could to keep themself in place.

“Hold on.”

The yaoguai ran. Daiwen swallowed their scream. The wind and branches whipped past their face. The yaoguai’s burning hot back shifted and shifted under them, threatening to throw the off. They bounced against the yaoguai’s back until their bruises had bruises. Their arms and legs seized up in a rigid grip. Daiwen shut their eyes and prayed to the Mother of Souls for it all to end.

It did, eventually. Daiwen nearly sobbed with relief as the yaoguai slowed to a stop. They pried their stiff, aching arms apart, causing them to slid down the yaoguai’s side. The fall was perfectly acceptable as long as it brought them back to sweet, not-shaking earth.

The yaoguai caught them with a snort. They raised Daiwen up with them as they stood. Daiwen’s limbs dangled stiff and useless.

“Can you walk?”

“Not yet.”

This time, the yaoguai hefted Daiwen over their shoulder and entered the cave. The mouth was damp and reeked of mold and moss, but the further they went into the dark, the warmer the cave became. The air drew close and thick.

“Here’s good. Or back a little.”

The yaoguai took them back to where there was still a hint of a breeze. They could hear the soft, distant patter of rain. They set Daiwen down against a solid, mercifully steady boulder. Daiwen closed their eyes and rested their cheek to the rock with a happy sigh. They patted the cave floor beside them.

“Come sit with me.”

The yaoguai sat. Though the yaoguai kept a hand’s breadth of distance between them, they radiated a heat as solid as the boulder. Daiwen unlatched the straps of their backpack and hugged the punching doll to their chest.

“Do you have a name?”

“Yaoguai.”

Either their father was an incredibly literal namer, or that was a no.

“Does your father know happened in the city?”

“He must.”

Daiwen immediately regretted the question. The yaoguai’s father had known and yet he’d done nothing. They changed the subject.

“Did you like the show?”

The yaoguai said nothing and the silence stretched into awkwardness, but their wall of heat strengthened until it matched the burn of the spirits of that priest and Tushenmen. Daiwen’s chilled, prickled skin relaxed in the warmth. They snuggled with their punching doll and drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

\--/--

Daiwen woke to a monstrous growl that echoed through the cave. It came from their stomach. They groaned and yanked the pocket watch from their doll’s gullet. It was already noon, or by their body’s clock, time for lunch.

Daiwen jumped at a second monstrous growl. It came from the yaoguai beside them. The yaoguai had laid out over the boulder, head back and resting on their horns with their belly up. They were in fully morning wood, the length of their cock extending up as long and wide as a forearm from its bovine skin sheath.

Daiwen hastily averted their eyes. They clambered onto the boulder, grunting at every aching stab from their sore limbs. The boulder was barely as tall as their shoulder, but they were coated in sweat by the time they managed to get on top of it. Daiwen wiped their palms on their spider silk before shaking the yaoguai’s shoulder.

“Wake up!”

The yaoguai sat straight up with a snort. Diwen jerked back. Their stiff limbs couldn’t balance. THey fell on their butt.

“Ow. Fuck.”

“Sorry. I forgot. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just starving.”

“My father has food.”

“Couldn’t we hunt something?”

“Hunting takes time.”

“Longer than it’ll take to get to your dad’s place?”

The yaoguai sat as still as a stone. Daiwen stood, shaking their head as they rubbed out the new ache in their rump.

“I’m not going anywhere until I’ve eaten.”

“I don’t have--” the yaoguai broke off with an intense burst of heat.

Daiwen shrugged off their jacket at the sudden warmth. They gave the yaoguai a quizzical look. They yaoguai’s burning black eyes avoided theirs, dropping down instead.

A flush spread from Daiwen’s chest to the tips of their ears as it all clicked. The yaoguai really had been paying attention during last night’s show--they’d remembered the skit where the mogui ‘explorers’ drank an ‘elixir of youth’ from Mangtun’s cock.

Daiwen let their jacket drop to their feet. They sunk to their knees beside the yaoguai. The yaoguai’s heat bristled against their bare arms and the skin of their neck, their face.

“May I?”

The yaoguai jerked their snout in a single, wordless nod.

Daiwen crawled into the yaoguai’s lap, straddling their thick, short-coated thigh. Daiwen looked up at the yaoguai, the head of their cock beneath Daiwen’s chin. The yaoguai’s solid black eyes were full of apprehension. It was their first time.

Daiwen smiled reassuringly and bent down until their chest grazed the stone. They licked and nuzzled the yaoguai’s balls.

Daiwen braced their palms flat against the yaoguai’s firm, sleek-furred chest. They licked around the base of their skin sheath. The red skin of their dick was much hotter than the fold and much harder.

They scooted further up the yaoguai’s thigh, their cunt twinging as the stiff fur brushed against their much softer thighs. Closer, they only needed to brace with one hand. They dropped the other to tease the yaoguai’s balls and the tiny patch of skin before their anus while the licked the shaft and underside of the head.

The yaoguai’s pulse quickened under their fingertips. Their own pulse quickened sympathetically, their thighs squeezing tight around the yaoguai’s. Daiwen raised their head. The yaoguai met their eyes, lowering their forehead to Daiwen’s.

Daiwen grabbed the yaoguai’s horns and tongued the head of their dick. The yaoguai snorted into Daiwen’s hair. Though Daiwen’s strength couldn’t match the yaoguai’s in any world, their hands around the yaoguai’s horns forced the yaoguai to stay bent forward if they wanted Daiwen to keep licking.

Daiwen ground their cunt against the hard muscles of the yaoguai’s leg, riding them like a wooden horse as their tongue tortured the yaoguai’s swollen head. The huffs and grunts of the powerful yaoguai at their mercy took Daiwen over the edge. Their slick dripped from their underwear onto the yaoguai’s sleek fur.

The yaoguai’s nostrils flared at the scent of their sex. They yanked Daiwen’s hands off their horns and pinned Daiwen’s wrists behind their head.

Daiwen yelped at the shift in balance. They fell forward, impaling their mouth on the yaoguai’s head. The yaoguai snorted at the sudden wet squeeze but didn’t let go of Daiwen’s wrists. Daiwen met their eyes and winked.

They rocked their head from side to side, working their mouth down lower on the yaoguai’s dick. The yaoguai let out a guttural moan. Their free hand moved to Daiwen’s chest, squeezing their breast as Daiwen took them further into their throat.

It was already hard to breath around the cock filling them from wall to wall. Then the head knocked against the back of Daiwen’s throat. Daiwen lost control of their breath. Their throat spasmed as they coughed and choked on the yaoguai’s dick.

The yaoguai yanked their hands off Daiwen in alarm. Daiwen snorted and sputtered, leaking snot, spit, and tears, but they smiled as best as they could around the yaoguai’s dick and shook their head. If the yaoguai didn’t cum, they wouldn’t eat.

Daiwen moaned encouragingly on the yaoguai’s cock. They could feel the yaoguai’s rapid pulse in the vein pressed tight to the wall of their throat, but after the yaoguai’s scare, it wasn’t enough. Daiwen held their breath. They swallowed on the yaoguai’s dick.

Their throat squeezed tight down on the shaft as it tried to take the yaoguai to their stomach. The yaoguai whined through their flaring nostrils, precum oozing down Daiwen’s throat. Daiwen whimpered hungrily for more, swallowing again and again.

The yaoguai’s dick throbbed burning hot. Bitter cum as thick as curdled milk pumped straight into Daiwen’s stomach. Daiwen cooed and sucked, rocking on the yaoguai’s hard thigh to help the gluey cum ooze down. The cum kept pumping. Daiwen’s thighs seized as a second orgasm wracked their grinding chunt, a shudder travelling up their spine.

The strength fled from their arms. Daiwen dropped onto the yaoguai’s pumping dick, cum sputtering from their nostrils. The yaoguai was ready this time. They lifted Daiwen by the hair and shoulder just enough to keep them from suffocating while they filled Daiwen’s stomach.

Daiwen drank every last drop. The yaoguai helped guide their head and throat off their dick. Daiwen gave them a weak and very sloppy grin.

“Thanks,” they rasped, “I’m stuffed.”

“You’re a mess,” said the yaoguai, holding Daiwen up by the armpits.

They licked Daiwen’s face clean of every fluid except their own spit. Daiwen laughed at the tickling tongue, squirming weakly in their grasp. The yaoguai only snorted and continued until Daiwen was presentable.

\--/--

Daiwen had to ride the yaoguai again to make up for lost time. They started out without the terror of last time, but the yaoguai didn’t stop until the misty dusk. By that time, Daiwen had reverted to a stiff-limbed rider with more bruises on their body tha skin. The yaoguai had to help them off.

Their father’s house, more like a castle, had been carved into the rocky cliff face of a foothill of the Yousi Mountains (游絲山) on the other side of a bridge. The yaoguai carried Daiwen up the stone steps to the bridge, narrow and slick from the spray of a roaring waterfall below. Huge stone carvings of a dragons, turtles, tigers, and birds, danced on the side of the cliff and rose out through the curtains of mist in towering statues from the front of the house.

The yaoguai froze at the center of the shrouded bridge, black eyes wide and burning. Daiwen followed their gaze to the circular doorway of the house. The red doors hung open and nearly off their hinges.

“Father…”

Daiwen placed a hand, clammy with dread, on their shoulder. The yaoguai set them down gingerly. Together, they snuck and shambled through the broken door.


	12. A Fear of Death

Chapter 12: A Fear of Death (貪生畏死)

The heavy read doors opened to a stone garden that had seen a storm. Broken bodies stinking of fluid decay laid where they’d fallen in the stirred waves of grazel, blanketed by buzzing flies.

“Father!”

The courtyard rang with the yaoguai’s bellow. It shook rifts in the black, buzzing masses, revealing stitched flesh and bone like the yaoguai’s. The last echo faded. Daiwen heard nothing, but the yaoguai’s nostrils flared.

The yaoguai ran to the west wing on all fours, flinging gravel from their hands and hooves. Daiwen grit their teeth against their bruises, aches, and pains. They ran after the yaoguai.

Every step shoved a lancing dagger through their soles through to their shins. Daiwen huffed and wheezed, breaking into a skin-prickling sweat. By the time they’d caught up to the yaoguai in a room at the end of the wing, their limbs had deadened to pure weight.

Daiwen dropped to their knees on silk carpet embroidered with the five-spoked wheel of Qi Zhong. The yaoguai towered at the center of the wheel over a stone coffin. Their skeletal fingers seized the lip of the lid.

Blue lightning, a magical ward, cracked from the lid. It seized back, wrapping the yaoguai in its jagged, wracking grasp. The yaoguai roared. They strained against the magic and stone, but the lightning cracked relentlessly. The yaoguai crashed to the floor with a sizzling pop.

The stink of burnt hair smacked Daiwen from the haze of pain. A tightness in their throat choked out their scream. They crawled to the fallen yaoguai, reaching out with a trembling hand. Their fingers brushed burnt skin. Their shoulders shook. Whatever magic the yaoguai’s maker used to bind life to their piecework parts still held. 

The yaoguai would be fine, after a few hours. The man in the casket might not.

“Fuck.”

The yaoguai, as hardy as they were, had nearly died trying to open the coffin. There was no way Daiwen could touch it. They needed someone who could try without fear of death. They needed someone dead.

Daiwen passed their palm over the yaoguai’s eyes, forcing the lids all the way down. They pushed unsteadily to their feet. They backtracked to the courtyard in a heavy slump against the wall, but they had to crawl off it to reach the edge of the gravel waves.

Daiwen sat on their knees, the many, dusty stones digging into their skin. The garden was completely still and silent except for the low thrum of feasting flies. Daiwen placed their palms together in front of their chest. They bowed to the dead in apology.

“Forgive me.”

Their aura flared. The yaoguai’s kin stirred. The gravel shifted and fell away from the four, rising forms like rain. The flies burst off the bodies into buzzing, whirring clouds around them. The dead walked, hobbled, and jerked behind Daiwen. They led them, limping, to the coffin room.

The four seized the lid. Blue lightning crackled over and through their bodies. Flies popped like kernels of corn into a sticky, black gunk that splattered onto the undead. The four twitched and jerked, but they lifted the lid.

The lightning continued to yank their nerves in every direction. The lid crashed to the floor. The lightning stopped.

“Thank you,” Daiwen pointed east. “Please go back to where you came from.”

The four lumbered back, taking the stink of decay and burning energy with them. When the angry buzzing of their flies faded, Daiwen checked the coffin. The yaoguai’s father laid sinde, an older man with white hair and whiter skin. He was alive, if unconscious.

Daiwen slumped against the side of the stone coffin. They slid to the soft carpet. With their punching doll as a pillow, they napped with the unconscious family at the center of Qi Zhong’s elemental wheel.

The yaoguai and their maker woke at the same time, three hours later. Their father was Count Cao Lanmeng (曹欄猛), a noble and student of history.

Three days ago, a group of powerful, magic-wielding bandits robbed him of a small, stone idol in his collection. The artifact was so old that no one knew what god it depicted, except, perhaps, for the bandits. After killing the count’s constructed family, they’d left him to die in the ancient stone coffin.

The count thanked Daiwen at length for saving him and invited them to stay for dinner.

Daiwen accepted. Despite the wealth and variety of food Count Cao had to offer, they might as well have been eating ash as they waited for the right time to ask about the spirit gate. They finally got their chance after the count had brought out the end-of-meal soup, a delicate broth of pumpkin and ginger.

“But enough about me. What brings you to our humble abode, Daiwen?”

They told him everything as quickly and clearly as they could. The count frowned in thought.

“Mushenmen (木神門),” he muttered, rising from his seat with a silver-spooned clatter. “Follow me.”

Daiwen followed Count Cao up flight after flight of stairs to the stone manor’s attic. They stopped at a surprisingly simple wooden door. The count pulled out a ring of jangling keys and unlocked the door with a curious key made of wood as green as though it’d been carved straight out of a young tree only this morning.

The door opened to a small, windowless room of wooden boards. There wasn’t a single piece of furniture inside. Its only distinguishing mark were small characters scratched into a central floorboard: ‘Mushenmen.’

The count didn’t follow Daiwen into the room. He spoke to them from the other side of the doorway.

“This room was never finished.”

“What happened?”

“It was cursed during the manor’s construction.”

The construction team fell behind schedule, so the foreman stayed overnight to try to catch up. When his team returned in the morning, they couldn’t find him. They searched the construction site for three days until the sound of weeping drew them to the room. It had been completely walled off from the rest of the building. They had to hack an opening through the wooden boards.

They found the foreman crouched inside, naked and covered in dust. He couldn’t understand a word they said to him, only speaking one name over and over again: ‘Mushenmen.’ They brought him out of the construction site, but he bolted as soon as they reached the forest.

They found him digging what seemed to be his own grave at the foot of a black-boughed tree. He fought with the strength of ten oxen as they dragged him out of the hole and pulled them all down. He smiled as soon as hit the ground. He died smiling.

“They fell on him?”

“Yes, but the coroner said a toxin had stopped his heart before he’d been crushed.”

No wonder the room had been declared cursed. 

Daiwen sunk to a cross-legged seat in front of the scratched plank. With the foreman locked in for three days, the likeliest poisoner was the guardian of the wooden gate. They would just have to be on their guard while dealing with the spirit.

Count Cao hurried off without another word. Daiwen had to shut the door themself.

As the purple-wreathed minutes of flared aura stretched to purple-wreathed hours, Daiwen went from sitting to lying flat on their back in the cramped, stuffy room. How the foreman had managed to stay walled in for three days, they had no idea. 

As for Mushenmen, nothing they did had managed to get the guardian’s attention. They’d clapped their hands, stamped their feet, and shouted through the floorboards like a bad upstairs neighbor. 

Daiwen sat up with a groan. Two black button eyes met theirs. Without dropping their flared aura, Daiwen picked up the punching doll. They tossed it up at the opposite wall. The doll had just enough bounce to fall back into Daiwen’s lap. Smack. They tossed it again. Smack. Smack. Sm--

“What are you doing?”

Daiwen jumped in their seat. Their aura went out like a flame. The yaoguai caught the doll before it smacked the sheepish grin off Daiwen’s face.

“I think the gate guardian might be sleeping.”

“It’s late. You should sleep too.”

“I can’t. I have to go.”

“Why?”

“I don’t belong here.”

The yaoguai sat down beside them, passing the doll back.

“You belong as much as me.”

Daiwen could say nothing to that. They set the doll in the corner instead. They crawled to a new seat behind the yaoguai, leaning against their sleek, burning hide.

“You could stay.”

Daiwen shut their eyes against the images of the friends they’d somehow managed to make here in this other Shenmen.

“No. I can’t.”

They fell into a taut, prickling silence. It threatened to choke them with awkwardness. The yaoguai finally spoke.

“Maybe the spirit will take you in your sleep.”

“May--wait! That’s it!”

Daiwen sprang to their feet and hugged the yaoguai’s muscled neck. The foreman had spent the night here working construction, which was much louder than any ruckus Daiwen could make. If that hadn’t stirred the spirit, it had to have happened when he’d fallen asleep.

“Thanks, Yaoguai. That’s exactly what I’ll do!”

“This is goodbye?”

“Yeah, I--”

Had a problem. Unlike Mistress He and presumably the foreman, Daiwen had only just started practicing magic. Those two might’ve been able to keep their auras up and spells going in their sleep. Daiwen could not.

They rested their chin on top of the yaoguai’s bovine head.

“Can I ask you for a goodbye favor?”

“What favor?”

“Would you...please make me cum so hard that I pass out?”

“What?”

“I needed my aura up to go through the last spirit gate, but I can’t keep it up in my sleep. So--”

“I’ve never fucked anyone before. How am I supposed to make you cum that hard? Is that even possible?”

“It is. It’s happened to me more than once, actually. I’ll tell you what to do. I mean, if you were ok with fucking me.”

The yaoguai sat as still as a stone, but heat burst from their hulking body. Daiwen let go and stepped back. The yaoguai stood, leaning over them. Their red cock hadn’t yet risen from the skin.

Daiwen reached under their spider silk sheath and scooted their underwear down their legs. They stuffed it into their jacket pocket. They turned their back to the yaoguai, bending over to reach into their doll. The hem of their sheath pulled up, flashing the cupped, bottom curve of their ass. The yaoguai snorted behind them. Daiwen hastily stuffed their coins into their other pocket.

“Ok. The more I orgasm, the more intense they get, so I think five should be enough to knock me out.”

“Five?!”

“It’ll be fine, just make me cum four times before you start banging me.”

“What do you need me to do?”

Daiwen grabbed the hem of their sheath and pulled it just high enough to expose the tip of their slit. Their aura flared purple.

“Eat me.”

The yaoguai lowered their head as though reading a charge. They stalked toward Daiwen. 

Daiwen instinctively retreated. Their breath hitched as they hit the wall behind them.

Without stopping, the yaoguai crouched and hooked their arms under Daiwen’s legs. They slid Daiwen up the wall. Daiwen squeaked. They grabbed onto the yaoguai’s horns with their flailing arms.

The yaoguai shifted Daiwen’s knees over their shoulders, Daiwen’s cunt at the height of their snout. Daiwen gulped at the warmth reaching up their sheath, but they scrunched the bottom hem up over their hips, completely exposing themself to yaoguai and their wall of heat. The yaoguai looked from their cunt to their clit to their eyes. Daiwen nodded, bracing against the yaoguai’s horns.

The yaoguai placed their skeletal hands on either side of Daiwen’s hips, pinning them to the wall. They walked forward, the soft underside of Daiwen’s thighs sliding over the stiff fur of their shoulders. Daiwen whimpered and squirmed, kicking the air at the bristling tickle, but they had nowhere to run.

The yaoguai’s hot, bumpy tongue rawed their clit. Daiwen grunted and shuddered against the wall. They wouldn’t last long like this. They didn’t. The hard licks grinding their twitching clit against their own pubic bone drew a scream from Daiwen’s throat.

The yaoguai pulled their snout off Daiwen’s swollen, empty cunt.

“Are you okay?”

“One,” they panted.

The yaoguai nodded and worked their tongue back against Daiwen’s mound. Daiwen grunted and pushed against their horns.

“Wait, wait.”

“Daiwen?” they asked, pulling back.

“Please, I need something inside me.”

“But you said--”

“Anything! Please!”

The yaoguai took one hand off their hips. They pushed one skeletal finger through Daiwen’s wet lips. The smooth, hard tip brushed the patch of rough, sensitive ridges just above their vagina’s mouth.

“Stop! There, touch me there.”

The yaoguai licked and rubbed Daiwen’s cunt from the inside out. Their walls squeezed down on the yaoguai’s finger. Daiwen shuddered as their cunt convulsed. Their slick dripped onto the yaoguai’s hand. Two.

The yaoguai’s nostrils flared. They snorted and pushed a second and third finger into Daiwen’s twitching hole. It wasn’t the only hole twitching.

“My ass--please--uhhgn!”

Without moving their arm, the yaoguai ducked out from under Daiwen’s thighs. Daiwen slid down onto their stretching fingers with a wet squelch.

The yaoguai screwed Daiwen around by the hip to face the wall. The hand that wasn’t impaling them reached up Daiwen’s back and crushed their chest to the wall, holding Daiwen entirely at their mercy.

If they had any. The yaoguai’s thick, powerful tongue pressed into Daiwen’s anus. Daiwen screamed and jerked in, against their hands, knees senselessly banging the hard wooden boards of the wall. Their back arched between their trapped ribs and hips. Three.

“Daiwen?”

Daiwen could only answer with a feral grunt between their panted breaths. The yaoguai was also panting.

“I can’t--I…”

Daiwen looked back over their shoulder. The yaoguai was fully erect. Daiwen could almost taste their bitter, gluey cum.

“Cum inside...cum..nngh!”

The yaoguai stepped under them. They slid Daiwen down against the wall until their swollen mouth rested on the tip of their dick. The yaoguai’s dick wasn’t even inside when Daiwen’s hips started to buck, torturously rubbing their own cunt against the wide, burning head. Daiwen whimpered to be filled.

The yaoguai grabbed their hair. They kept Daiwen’s chest pinned to the wall under their forearm while they pulled Daiwen’s head back just enough over their shoulder to catch Daiwen’s face as their head crowned into Daiwen’s mouth. 

Daiwen’s eyes widened nearly as much as their cunt. They clenched their teeth against a building scream, but they couldn’t hold it back as the head forced its way through their walls. The solid width tearing them apart wracked their shaft with convulsions. Daiwen’s arms and legs went rigid, fingers and toes curling in on themselves. Slick ran like piss down their legs. Four.

The yaoguai grunted, their thick-skulled forehead bumping Daiwen’s back as they rammed their cock up their tightly clenched shaft. They sheathed their dick in Daiwen all the way to the hilt, shoving against the mouth of Daiwen’s womb. Daiwen shuddered and thrashed, only rubbing the head harder into their cunt’s inner mouth.

The yaoguai cried out in shock. Their burning hot seed pumped straight into Daiwen’s helpless womb. Daiwen moaned, just as helpless to their pleasure, and crested to the edge of a final orgasm.

The yaoguai pulled out of Daiwen with a soft pop.

“N-n-ngh,” Daiwen sputtered weakly.

The yaoguai let them off the wall. Daiwen staggered and fell into the yaoguai, cum slopping from their cunt to the floor.

The yaoguai helped them to their hands and knees, their dick continuing to pump cum onto their face. Daiwen licked up what they could. The rest was in their hair and on their neck where their tongue wouldn’t reach.

“One more?” the yaoguai panted.

Daiwen nodded. They reached back to help, pullin the hem of their sheath over their ass, but they couldn’t balance on their strengthless limbs.

Daiwen collapsed flat on their face, arms by their sides, bared ass up at the yaoguai. The yaoguai slipped a bracing hand around Daiwen’s mound. They pressed the tip of their cock against their anus. Their cum spurted through the puckered hole. Daiwen shuddered into the yaoguai’s hand with a piteous whine.

The yaoguai shoved Daiwen’s ass down on their dick by the hand crushing their cunt. Daiwen wheezed, their eyes rolling to the back of their head. The yaoguai pounded their ass to the floorboards, their cunt mercilessly grinding into their skeletal fingers. 

Daiwen came until they couldn’t count and all they could see was purple and black.


	13. Heavenly Flower, Rain Down

Chapter 13: Heavenly Flower, Rain Down (天花乱坠)

Daiwen woke to bright, leafy green. They raised their head in confusion. Their hand pushed through a ropey hole into thin air. Daiwen squeaked and fell.

Thick, fibrous vines caught their shoulder. The yaoguai’s cum slopped out from their holes and splattered onto a carpet of star-like green leaves. The leaves layered over the walls and ceiling as well. The green room was otherwise identical to the small, cramped attic room.

Daiwen hung below the ceiling in a net of vines. Much to their surprise, their punching doll backpack had followed them through the gate. It hung from a similar, smaller net in the corner.

The leaves rustled all through the room at a wind that never touched Daiwen. The floor peeled open. A white chrysanthemum as large as a cartwheel bloomed from the leafy maw. The petals opened around a warrior in armor made of bamboo slats and spider silk at the heart of the flower. Silk strands wrapped the large serpent’s skull that they wore as a helm. 

They looked up at Daiwen from directly below. Four glowing pink pits burned from the back of their skull.

“I am Mushenmen (木神門), guardian of the wooden gate,” they hissed. “What are you doing in my wall?”

“My name is Daiwen, and I just want to go home.”

“The vines do not trap the innocent.”

“I’m a necromancer.”

“You are an abomination. You cannot be allowed to return to the Mortal Realm.”

“I didn’t choose to become a necromancer!”

“You choose to continue using necromancy.”

“To save lives!” Daiwen shouted, vision blurring with angry, exhausted tears.

The living net pulled apart into hissing vines. Daiwen screamed and fell head-first to the floor. They jerked to a stop right in front of Mushenmen’s glowing eyes, vines coiled tight around their lower legs.

Daiwen panted, barely able to catch their breath. The last of the yaoguai’s cum sank like lead against Daiwen’s gut. The discomfort only made them more aware of the tickle of fear in their bladder.

Mushenmen grabbed their hair and pulled Daiwen’s face to their half-skull, half-human snarl.

“You save lives by stealing the life spans of the living and the energy of the restful dead.”

“Yes, ok, I do,” they croaked, tears falling up their bared forehead. “I care more about the lives of the people around me than others. Is that so wrong?”

“You will rot here.”

Mushenmen let go of Daiwen’s hair. Daiwen swung like a pendulum. The chrysanthemum petals rose up to the guardian’s sides.

“No, no, no, wait!”

Daiwen flailed at the guardian for a hold as they swung by. Their fingertips brushed the spirit’s burning neck. Mushenmen stiffened. 

The rustling vines jerked Daiwen to a stop. Their palm pressed flat against the smooth length of their neck. Mushenmen said nothing, but their glowing pits stretched as long as four pink gashes.

Daiwen’s hand trembled in anger at a realization, but they didn’t pull away. Just like Tushenmen, this spirit could condemn a necromancer as much as they wanted, but they’d never felt one in person. Daiwen’s breath steadied. They had to remind the spirit how it felt to be alive, or they would die here.

Mushenmen broke the silence with a breathless hiss.

“What spell is this?”

“No spells. No tricks. I want a trade, spirit. I’ll make you an offering and you give me passage. That’s how it’s done, right?”

“You have nothing to offer.”

Daiwen removed their hand. Mushenmen started forward, crushing petals underfoot. A heady, floral scent rose up between Daiwen and the guardian.

“Show me. Show me what you have to offer.”

“Take off your armor.”

The spirit hissed, but they obeyed. The chrysanthemum petals closed over the pieces of armor where they fell. Only the serpent’s skull remained. The character for ‘wood’ (木) had been inked in green over Mushenmen’s olive-skinned chest. Smaller, more fluid character in the same ancient script as on Tushenmen whorled out from ‘wood’ and down the guardian’s limbs, not unlike the vines coiled around Daiwen’s legs.

The white petals parted for the guardian’s bared feet. Unlike Tushenmen, this spirit stepped right up onto the bruised petals and into Daiwen’s face. The heady, floral scent grew strong enough that Daiwen could taste a honeyed tang in the air.

“Where should I touch you first?”

Mushenmen’s glowing pink eyes blinked several times.

“My...my chest.”

“I need to come down.”

Instead of releasing Daiwen, the vines only lowered them until their head was level with Mushenmen’s breasts. Daiwen raised one hand to their skin. They pulled the fleshy, cupped weight to their mouth. Their tongued raked over the brown nipple until it stood quivering and erect. Only then did they flick and suck.

The leaves of the green room rustled in time with the guardian’s shallow breath. Daiwen lowered their other hand to Mushenmen’s tattooed thigh. The guardian shivered as they stroked the vulnerable softness inches from their slit. Their lips watered.

Daiwen raised their mouth off the spirit’s tit. Mushenmen failed to stifle a whimper of protest. Daiwen snorted a chuckle at their pathetic need. They pushed one finger through the spirit’s lips. Mushenmen gasped and shivered as they hooked it against the ridged patch over their mouth.

“Take me lower,” said Daiwen, tugging Mushenmen’s ridges against the bone.

The spirit squeaked, their walls clamping down on Daiwen’s hooked finger. Resinous slick the color and scent of amber tree sap oozed from their mouth into Daiwen’s palm.

The vines around Daiwen’s shins lowered them until their head was at the level of guardian’s cunt. The vines bent their legs at the knees and strapped them to Daiwen’s thighs. As the vines spread their legs apart, Daiwen realized that their holes, still sticky and stinking of the yaoguai’s cum, were open and vulnerable to their hissing tongue.

The guardian sneered down at them, four eyes narrowed to glowing pink slits.

“I want to taste you, necromancer.”

Daiwen set their thumb over Mushenmen’s clit.

“Then beg for it.”

They tugged the spirit’s cunt from ridge to clit.

Mushenmen squealed, knees trembling, but they shook their head.

Daiwen shrugged upside down and pulled their hand off the spirit’s mouth, a sticky glob of resin on their fingers. They licked it off as Mushenmen watched open-mouthed. The strong, bitter taste of pine burned all the way to their chest like an alcohol. 

Daiwen grabbed the spirit’s hips and gagged onto their clit, their tongue grinding into their mound with every cough.

“Please! Please let me taste you!” Mushenmen screamed over their coughing.

Daiwen held up one hand in an a-okay. Then shoved all three standing fingers into their mouth. The spirit moaned into Daiwen’s cunt.

Mushenmen’s long, forked tongued lashed and wrapped their clit. Daiwen squealed and jerked to get away, every spasm jolting them through to the bladder. Mushenmen only locked both arms around the small of their back, locking Daiwen’s hips under their tongue and bound thighs on either side of the skull helm.

A dozen thick, hissing vines snaked down those holding Daiwen from the ceiling. They wound around and squeezed Daiwen’s knees and quivering thighs. They slithered thick and heavy over their crotch, rubbing raw and merciless between their pussy lips and ass as they snaked down Daiwen’s body.

The vines coiled tight around Daiwen’s arms. They pulled them straight between their shoulder blades until their helplessly flexing fingers were over their roped ass. The vines lashed their arms together from the wrists, up the forearms, and to the biceps. They pulled Daiwen’s arms flat against their back in thick bands of many vines that wound over and under their heaving chest. The vines yanked closed, crushing Daiwen’s instinctive scream down to a wheeze.

“Why did you stop licking?” Mushenmen cooed, slapping Daiwen’s ass and digging their fingers into the soft, bound flesh.

Daiwen snarled up at them. They plunged their tongue into the spirit’s clenched cunt. They coughed and sputtered on the burning resin, but they left their tortured tongue inside, letting the vibrations shoot up Mushenmen’s shaft.

The spirit moaned. They stabbed back with their own wriggling tongue. Daiwen whimpered and squirmed as it writhed in their shaft, but the binding vines hissed and groped them tighter. Their bladder strained. Daiwen clenched against their need to piss, only tightening their walls around the tongue churning their shaft.

The thick, blunt head of a vine nudged against Daiwen’s exposed anus. Daiwen shuddered and sobbed with resignation into Mushenmen’s cunt. The spirit squealed like a sow, cumming. Daiwen choked on the splatter of resin in their mouth. As they gagged, the probing vine pushed into their sticky, twitching anus. Raw pleasure lanced straight to their over-strained bladder.

Daiwen thrashed and clenched, wheezing a scream, but it was too much. Their back arched, fingers and toes curling over their pounded ass. Clear piss reeking of sex squirted from Daiwen’s cunt into Mushenmen’s face.

The spirit fell back, squawking and flailing like a falling bird. Vines shot up over the flower to catch them. They wrapped around Mushenmen’s arms and legs, but more plunged one after another into the spirit’s squelching cunt and anus.

Mushenmen’s head lolled back over their shoulders, jaw slack. Vines dropped from the ceiling. They shoved themselves down their throat. The guardian’s body twitched and jerked around their overstuffed holes.

The vines around Daiwen and Mushenmen shuddered. Resinous, amber cum oozed from every green cell. The vines completely drenched the two in the burning, reeking sap. Daiwen’s ass overflowed, a mix of the stinking milky and honeyed cum slopping down the line of their back.

Mushenmen gurgled senselessly, lost to their own pleasure. The petals of the white chrysanthemum closed over their grunts and squelches.

The intruding vine finally pulled out of Daiwen’s asshole.

“Am--am I free to go?” they rasped.

Every last vine yanked away from their battered body. Daiwen screamed and fell through the floor in a blur of green.

\--/--

Daiwen dropped with a grunt and a light thump against smooth wooden boards. Despite their exhaustion, their heart leapt into their throat. Mushenmen had sent them back to the room.

Daiwen scrambled up to all fours, their sweating hands and knees sliding on the polished floor. Amber cum oozed down their arms and legs, puddling under them. The thumping continued to pound over the pulse in their ears.

Daiwen raised their head over top of a black lacquered tea table. A naked youth kneeled on bruised knees on the hardwood floor. A red rope harness bound their breasts but left their hands free to pump the cock of a tiger-headed humanoid in their right and a snake-headed humanoid in their left. 

A humanoid covered in fiery-hued feathers laid on their back with their head between the youth’s legs and their beak buried between the youth’s dripping lips. A bald-headed humanoid with bumpy, dark green skin and a heavy shell on their back squatted behind the youth. Their black-taloned fingers dug into the bound flesh of their breasts. They roared and reamed the youth’s asshole with the full length of their bumpy dick.

The youth screamed and braced against the dicks in their hands to keep from being railed straight into the floor. They squeezed with a twisting, iron grip as the shelled humanoid forced their back lower with every thrust.

The youth grunted and lowed like a cow. The shelled humanoid grabbed te intricate black knot of their hair and pulled their head up. Their slobber splattered the against the floor. The youth’s black eyes, half-lidded in shameless feral heat, met Daiwen’s. They jerked wide open.

“Sec-sec-security!”


	14. Unforgettable

Chapter 14: Unforgettable (刻骨铭心)

Everything happened all at once. The animal-headed gangbangers screamed. Cum burst from the cocks in the youth’s hands. Daiwen scrambled to their feet, waving their hands and bowing apologies. Their foot slipped in the resin cum puddle. 

Daiwen yelped. Their back slammed the hardwood. A wooden door slid open behind their head.

Daiwen tilted their head back. A huge, catlike dragons’ head filled the whole doorway with its golden scales and white whiskers. Its gold, feline eyes narrowed on Daiwen. The dragoncat screeched. Daiwen screamed.

It pounced through the doorway and snapped Daiwen up behind the wall of its razor-sharp teeth, each as large as a small child. It bolted.

Daiwen fell to its rough, bristled tongue. They grabbed at the bristles to keep from sliding down its gullet. Saliva shook down from above and surge up from below, drenching them. They clamped their mouth shut over another scream. 

They could barely breathe the hot, muggy breath in the dragoncat’s mouth. Their weakening fingers slipped. They slid down the tongue bristles to the black hole of its throat.

The dragoncat jerked to a stop, head lowered. Daiwen smacked against the wet pink of the roof of its mouth. They grunted and dropped. The dragoncat opened its mouth, its tongue stretching out like a carpet. Daiwen tumbled down onto hard, wooden boards with a sticky smack. They struggled to sit up under the layers of saliva and dissolving cum weighing them down.

An enormous fireplace crackled to their side, lining the lower, waist-high section of the entire wall with flames. The wooden ceiling soared overhead, all rafters invisible at that height. The doors opposite Daiwen slid open to either side of a circular doorframe.

A tall, lithe human wearing gold silk and their black hair long stepped through the doors. No, not entirely human. As they approached, their pale skin and the gold, slit pupils of their monolid black eyes caught the firelight with fishscale shimmers. 

They turned a wooden armchair as large as throne away from the fire wall to face Daiwen and the dragoncat. They waved a hand dismissively, their melodic voice low with command.

“Thank you, Yishao (依哨). You may leave us.”

They sat with their legs crossed and spread their arms wide, reminding Daiwen at once of Mistress He.

“Good evening. I am Director Cai (采), he/him. Who might you be?”

“Daiwen. I’m sorry about earlier.”

“Ah, yes. The customer was highly unsatisfied. I had to offer her a full refund. Which you’ll be paying, of course.”

Director Cai cupped his hand to the side of his mouth.

“Yishao!”

The door behind Daiwen slid open to the dragoncat’s head once more. Daiwen crouched behind a second wooden armchair. Heat-dried residue of the cum and spit flaked off them like snow.

Yishao opened their maw. The punching doll backpack, coated in spit, rolled down their tongue. They shut their jaws with a low, bodily growl that resonated in Daiwen’s chest, but withdrew their head through the doorway. The door slid closed by magic.

“That’ll be five thousand gold.”

All the blood and strength bled out through the soles of Daiwen’s feet. They barely caught themself on the arm of the chair. White flakes flurried to the floorboards.

“I don’t--I--”

Had never seen that much money in their entire life. Director Cai let them gape and flail like a landed fish for a full minute before raising his palm.

“You don’t have any money, do you?” he sighed.

“N-no. But I’m a hard worker!”

“Are you a shapeshifter certified in sex work?”

“No, but--”

“I can’t offer the customers anything less than the best--”

“I can clean. Sex is messy. Even rich people brothel sex.”

“That...is true. I can put you on our janitorial staff at once. I’ll need your chop.”

“I don’t have one.”

Not on them. Their chop, a small wooden block carved to stamp their name on official documents, was back in their village in the Mortal Realm.

“No matter,” said the director, stretching languidly as he stood. “I’ll make you one.”

He walked to the fire wall and, much to Daiwen’s horror, reached into the flames. He withdrew his fist completely unscathed, his skin glimmering in the red light. He opened his hand over the desk on the opposite wall, revealing a small, unburnt cylinder of wood and a smoking stick of charcoal.

“Give me your hand.”

He dropped the charcoal into their open palm. It was warm but not hot.

“Can you write?”

“Only my name.”

He passed them a small scrap of parchment. Daiwen scrawled their full name (安代玟) and passed it back. The director held up a single finger. One moment it was human. The next, it was covered in sleek, orange-gold scales, a long black talon curving from the tip.

Director Cai’s claw dug woden curls out from the hard cylinder as easily as scooping out wax with an earpick. His finger shifted back in the blink of an eye. He pressed the carved end of the chop into a pad of red ink and left it standing. He slid a contract across the table for janitorial services with ‘Shengtaiguan Sexual Theme Park.’

Without much choice, Daiwen stamped their new chop in the signature box. It left their name in red ink and the fluid characters of ancient Tien. 

The director placed a single finger at the top of the contract. It rolled into a little scroll and sealed itself with a little bow of red string. He filed the scroll under the table.

“Welcome to Shengtaiguan Park!” (生態館遊樂園)

Rather than force Daiwen to start immediately, Director Cai arranged for them to start a brief janitorial training and safety course tomorrow morning.

“As for tonight, seeing as it’s your first time here, how would you like a tour?”

“Sure, thanks, I’ve never been to a brothel.”

“Sexual theme park--let me show you.”

The difference left Daiwen confused but curious. As utterly exhausted as they were, they grabbed their flaking backpack and took the director’s arm with a quiet, lip-biting eagerness. He led them from his office and down the hall to a balcony platform that opened to a road made of rails suspended three stories above the ground.

A low shushing sounded from the bend of the rails. Three black and gold lacquered carts on wheels rolled leisurely down the road. A trio of musicians sat in the third cart playing a bamboo flute, a drum, and a four-stringed lute as they chanted: ‘Sh-sh-sh, sh-sh-sh.’

The carts rolled to a stop at the balcony, the balcony’s rails parting upwards like metal wings. Daiwen sat with Director Cai in the front. The metal wings swooped closed, and the carts were off, gently rolling three stories over the heart of the Mingdao Wood.

“If you’ll look to your right, you’ll see our tropical-themed Jungleland.”

Daiwen looked wide-eyed and gasping at a horizontal and vertical stretch of treehouses in towering, foreign trees from the Valashmai Jungle that stretched across all of southern Tian-Xia. The director pointed out the sexually-stimulating rides: the Vine Swing, the Swallowing Tar, and the Monkey Bars. 

As Daiwen took in the erotic sights and unavoidable sounds with a spreading flush, the musical trio began to sing:

“I got some troubles, but they won't last  
I'm gonna lay right down here in the leaves  
And pretty soon all my troubles will flee  
'Cause I'm in sh-sh-sh, sh-sh-sh  
Sh-sh, sh-sh, sh-sh Shengtaiguan.”

“Straight ahead is our desert-themed Duneland.”

There it was, a miniature desert in the middle of the forest. The rentable rooms were domed, cave-like structures half-buried in the titular dunes of golden sand. The far more visible rides were the Camel Humps, the Lashing Palms, and the Spiceworm. 

The musicians continued to sing:

“I never had a dog that liked me some  
Never had a friend or wanted one  
So I just lay back and laugh at the sun  
'Cause I'm in sh-sh-sh, sh-sh-sh  
Sh-sh, sh-sh, sh-sh Shengtaiguan.”

“Now, if you’ll kindly direct your eyes upward, you’ll see our gravity-defying Aerie.”

Thick, metal posts soared far above the treeline and the railroad, holding room-sized bird nests to the clouded night sky. Ship-like rigging and rope bridges connected the rooms to the rides: the Mile High Slide, the Observation Wheel, and the Zero G Fall. 

The musicians sang over the screams:

“Yesterday it rained in Valashma-i  
I heard it also rained in Po-o-li  
But not a drop fell on little old me  
'Cause I was in sh-sh-sh, sh-sh-sh  
Sh-sh, sh-sh, sh-sh Shengtaiguan.”

“And last but not least, our ocean-themed Laguna Deep. You may want to hold onto your hats and glasses.”

The carts plunged three stories down into a lake. Daiwen screamed. They squeezed their doll and the director’s arm to their chest for dear life. Their still-bare ass lifted off the seat. The dive threw their stomach against their lungs, but the carts slowed before it all spilled out their mouth.

Daiwen’s breath hitched. Glass orbs swayed on braided ropes of kelp nursing a hazy glow around the glass tunnel and throughout the lake. Larger, room-sized orbs of stained glass drifted through the water, trailing koi-like tails of shimmering spider silk.

Daiwen wouldn’t have noticed the rides at all if not for a nudge from the arm still pressed to their chest. They released the director with a sheepish grin and pried their eyes off the glowing glass to note the rides: the Anchor Seat, the Den of Squids, and the Sucking Vortex.

The musicians, who’d stopped their song out of necessity during the drop, picked up the tune once more:

“If I had a million gold pieces or ten  
I'd give to ya, world, and then  
You'd go away and let me spend  
My life in sh-sh-sh, sh-sh-sh  
Sh-sh, sh-sh, sh-sh Shengtaiguan.”

Daiwen found themself humming along with them as the carts rolled to a stop at a balcony on the opposite side of the central tower, the Yueliang Stairs (月亮樓梯). Director Cai led Daiwen up flight after flight of the titular stairs past overnight rooms and a bathhouse that took up the entire top floor. They didn’t stop until they’d reached the door to the roof.

The director squeezed Daiwen’s hand. They stepped through the sliding door into a lush garden. High, flowering green walls lined the soft, grassy walkway. The walls broke for narrow green alleys whose leaves rustled in time with sighs from within. Director Cai trailed his free hand over the leaves.

“Sound selective, thanks to magic, of course.”

Clouds rumbled in the dark morning sky above. Lightning flashed and thunder muted to the same low rumble as the first shook the garden. No rain fell. Director Cai froze.

“Do you want to see something off-limits.”

“Yes.”

“Hold on.”

Daiwen wrapped their arms around the director. The punching doll fell to the ground in ring of white flakes. Director Cai swept Daiwen off their feet and rose into the air. Gossamer, orange-gold fins trailed through his golden robes and floated out behind him as they flew closer to the flashing clouds.

Daiwen shivered as the air chilled. Then they saw the rain, and all the cold melted away.

The rain fell, but everywhere over Shengtaiguan Park, the drops curved off into star-like sheets the flowed over the grounds to magically-designated reservoirs. Director Cai and Daiwen floated up between the sheets. Daiwen laughed in sheer, marvelling delight as the beads of flying rain danced around them.

The clouds flashed and rumbled. The director laughed with them. The sound travelled straight from his chest into Daiwen’s. Their eyes met his.

“Thank you.”

“Daiwen…”

“Yeah?”

“If you’ve never been with a sex-certified shifter before, you should try it while you’re here. I’ll give you one free token, but after that it’s pay-to-play.”

“Is that how you hook all the rich people?”

“Well, yes, but that’s not why I want you to have it.”

“Then why?”

“It’s been years since I’ve been out of that office. To see how much joy this park can bring, seeing you enjoy yourself--it’s intoxicating. I want to hold onto this memory. This is my, sorry, literal token of thanks.”

“Keep it.”

“Oh, alright, sure. I hope I haven’t offend--”

“Oh no, I meant...you’re a sex-certified shifter, right?”

“I am.”

“Then, I’d rather you were the one to fuck me.”

The director’s gold slit pupils dilated. Daiwen gave him the slightest nod. He crushed them to his chest, growling into them as he tasted their mouth. Daiwen pulled back, breathing hard. Fins and rain swirled around them.

“C-can I taste your dick?”

“Ah, can you fly?” asked Director Cai, glancing down at the garden’s green blur below.

“No…”

He pulled Daiwen close, burying their face against the firm warmth of his chest. His arms shifted behind their back and waist, his sleeves vanishing into sleek-scaled climbs. He leaned back, his torso shifting under them. Daiwen squirmed as his lengthening body rubbed his scales on the soft, bare skin between their legs.

The director’s low, bodily chuckle resonated deep in Daiwen’s core, tugging down to their cunt. Heat flushed from their chest to the tips of their ears. Their lips had left a wet smear on his serpentine torso.

The director’s limbs loosened around Daiwen. They sat up on their own slick, their face burning red. The director’s face, now long and draconic with orange-gold scales split into a grin of needle-sharp teeth. Daiwen inhaled sharply.

“Second thoughts?” his voice rumbled like the muffled thunder above and shot like lightning between Daiwen’s straddling legs.

“No,” they squeaked.

The opposite, really. They turned their back to Director Cai and scooted down his torso, his gossamer, koi-like fins billowing out from his back. Daiwen did their best to ignore the tingling rub of his scales under them, instead focusing on his thick, orange-scaled dick.

Daiwen licked up and down one of the dark stripes along its shaft. A bumpy ridge rose under their tongue. All the stripes were ridges. They would definitely expand if Daiwen took the full length of his cock down their throat, but they’d never be able to afford this again.

Daiwen smiled weakly back at the director. They held their breath and tried to suck down his whole cock before the ridges expanded. They made it halfway down the shaft.

The vertical ridges pushed into the walls of their throat. Daiwen coughed and choked at the horizontal stretch, drooling onto his orange-scaled balls.

Director Cai sat up behind them and held them steady. The ridges retracted. He cupped a black-taloned hand under their chin and eased Daiwen’s head off his dick. His hot breath prickled the skin of their neck.

“Hey, are you okay? Do you need to stop?”

Daiwen leaned into his hand and guided his other down their front and under their sheath. He slipped a claw between their swollen lips. Daiwen shamelessly filled his hand with their leaking slick.

“Please, don’t leave me like this,” they croaked.

Director Cai growled into their back. He opened his mouth and took their neck between his teeth, the needle-like points grazing the sensitive skin. Daiwen’s arms locked around his, legs squeezing tight to his torso as they struggled not to shudder in his jaws. But his claw moved under them. All the weight centered over their slit ground their clit into his hand. Their cunt clenched.

Daiwen’s control slipped. They screamed raw and shuddered, scattering the flying rain. The director’s teeth dug into their throat but didn’t break the skin. They only refused to let Daiwen go.

Direct Cai lifted Daiwen’s hips off his torso, placing them gingerly over the head of his cock. Daiwen’s legs dangled and twitched in thin air, stirring the rain into lazy swirls. Instead of ending their torture, the director rubbed Daiwen’s dripping lips over the head until their whimpers turned to sobs and their squirms to helpless bucking.

“Please!” they rasped. “Please let me ride you!”

The director’s forked tongue licked the nape of their trapped neck. He pushed their hips down over the head. Daiwen grunted and whined, hips bucking frantically. Their soaked cunt slid and split down the shaft, suddenly sheathing him to the hilt. His head rammed the mouth of their womb.

The fullness crushed Daiwen’s shriek to a wheeze. Then the ridges expanded.

Director Cai clamped both arms around Daiwen as they thrashed, pinning their writhing body to his chest. Their legs helplessly kicked away the flying curtains of rain. Their stretched walls clenched and clenched, desperate to squeeze his ridges flat against his intruding dick. 

The constant pulsing and pumping only sent Daiwen’s shaft into uncontrollable convulsions. They huffed and wheezed, orgasm after orgasm wracking their body against the director.

Their strength fled. Daiwen sagged in Director Cai’s caging grip, their body drained to a limp mass of flesh quivering in waves of pleasure.

The director, seeming to sense their floating consciousness, released Daiwen’s neck and uncurled his serpentine body. His dick eased out from between Daiwen’s dangling legs. Director Cai hissed and came up the back of their sheath. His hot cum splattered up to their shoulder blades. Daiwen shivered and whimpered, their consciousness floating back to their body.

Director Cai scooped them back up into this arms and flew them down to a green-walled section of garden. He laid Daiwen out on feathersoft grass under the gray dawn. They murmured incoherently. He laid down beside them, smiling, and whispered something in their ear. But Daiwen was still too far gone for words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song credit: Nancy Sinatra, Sugartown


	15. Eat Deliciously

Chapter 15: Eat Deliciously (津津有味)

A wetness pierced through the layers of Daiwen’s sleep and pulled them out of their dream. They awoke with the feeling they’d pissed themself somehow all over their body. They pushed up groggily from the red, feathersoft grass into a reddish, gold ring.

That wasn’t right. A sticky, red dampness coated Director Cai’s scales and dulled their shimmer. Daiwen raised a red, trembling hand to his serpentine torso. They fell to the elbow through a hole in his chest.

Daiwen screamed, soundless to their ringing ears. They jerked their hand from the hole, flinging gore, and scrambled to their feet. They sobed for breath, vision blurring. The garden, the grass, and the dragon spun around them in all directions. Daiwen bawled and staggered for the gap between the green walls like the village drunk.

They staggered right into the same young woman from last night. Daiwen and the young woman reeled apart. Daiwen fell butt-first to the grass. The same four shifters caught the young woman. 

Everyone stared at the bright, sticky read coating her from bangs to belt. The young woman screamed. The shifters screamed. The leaves rustled away the sound.

“Security!”

The dragoncat’s gold-scaled and white-whiskered head appeared at the end of the green alley. Yishao leaped over the leaves, the sun bursting in gold rays around their white-furred belly. One massive paw slammed Daiwen to the ground in a cage of black claws from toe to shoulder.

Yishao opened their mouth. Daiwen screamed. Genuine piss gushed down their legs. But Yishao didn’t tear off their head like a cat would a mouse. Instead, an unseen bell tolled from their open mouth. A load but warm and soothing voice rolled out and broadcasted over the entire park:

“Ladies and gentlefolk, Yueliang Stairs’s rooftop gardens will be closed for cleaning until noon tomorrow. We apologize for the inconvenience and thank you for your cooperation. Please enjoy the rest of your stay with us at Shengtaiguan Park!”

A few seconds later, the message repeated. At the start of the third loop, a tall, lithe shifter wearing silver silk and their black hair cropped close appeared at the end of the green alley. As they approached, their earth brown skin and silver slit pupils shimmered in the morning light.

“Excuse me, pardon me, coming through.”

They squeezed around the young woman and company, stepped over Daiwen in the dragoncat’s paw, and entered the clearing. They clapped both hands to the sides of their face like blinders on a horse and stepped back into the alley.

“Ok, uh, yeah, so that happened,” they looked up at the young woman and lowered their hands to wipe their palms on their silk robes. “Uh, hi. I’m the, uh, new Director Cai, they/them. The, uh, former Director Cai was my older brother--not that that’s, uh, particularly relevant.”

The young woman only raised an eyebrow. The new Director Cai cleared their throat with a hasty cough.

“Did you, uh, see that?”

“I want a full refund.”

“Yeah, sure, right, of course. I’ll escort you to the--”

The young woman and her sex posse turned on their heels and walked out. Director Cai swung their arms, clapping weakly.

“Great, I guess they know the way. And, uh, you caught the killer, so there’s that--”

“I’m not the killer!”

“Aren’t you?” they cringed down at Daiwen.

“No! No, I would never have hurt your brother.”

“You’re--you’re covered in his blood. Even your mouth like you ate him like a, uh, raw fucking fish platter.”

“Get a priest--there has to be a priest here.”

This time, Daiwen really was innocent, and with the time of death so close, the former director’s spirit would still be around the body to vouch for them. If shifter spirits behaved like human spirits--no, they had to. Daiwen needed them to.

The new director chewed their lips. At the end of the sixth loop, they threw their hands up in exasperation.

“Fine! Yishao, could you, uh, find a priest--or just someone holy enough to throw the blocks (筊杯). Do we, uh, keep a record of--”

Yishao leaped over the alley in a spray of grass and dirt. Daiwen rolled out of their piss puddle and huddle against a leafy wall, knees curled to their chest. Director Cai back further away from the puddle and continued their swinging clap.

“You, uh, aren’t a guest, are you?”

“No.”

“What’s your name?”

“Daiwen.”

“Daiwen, that is...the first good news I’ve had all morning.”

Yishao returned with a flying leap. Daiwen instinctively flattened themself to the green wall, but the dragoncat landed lightly in the murder scene clearing. A priest straddled their back.

Daiwen’s eyes widened, their jaw falling slack. The shock of the murder and getting accused of murder hadn’t even worn off, but the sight of the Bashi Temple priest shocked them again.

One hand gave Daiwen a finger-waggling wave. The other held an open censer filled with soft, gray sand. The priest slid down the dragoncat’s side like a child and stepped into the dead dragon ring at the lowest point, where the director’s gossamer-finned tail met his koi-whiskered mouth. They set the censer down where Daiwen had laid and took a red stick of incense between their palms with a murmured prayer.

They stuck the incense into the sand so it stood red and smoking. They drew two red, palm-sized wooden crescents from their robes. The priest walked three times around the censer with the moon blocks on their palms. They stopped with their back to Daiwen, the director, and the dragoncat.

“You may ask three questions before the spirit has gone.”

“Is Daiwen here your murderer?”

The priest cast the blocks. The blocks came up with the round sides up in angry answer (怒筊): ‘no.’

“Two questions.”

“Do you know who killed you?”

Again, the blocks came up round and angry.

“One question.”

“I, uh, can’t really think of any--”

“Will you let Daiwen lead the investigation into your murder?” asked the priest.

“Hey--”

They cast the blocks. The blocks came up one round and one flat in divine answer (聖筊): ‘yes.’

The red stick of incense collapsed into a little heap of ash over the gray sand. The priest turned to face the three with a ghost of a smile.

“The spirit has spoken. All we can do is respect their answer.”

“Woah, woah, woah, woah,” said the new director, holding up both hands. “You can’t be serious about that last part.”

“I don’t need to tell you what happens to those who respect only two thirds of a spirit.”

“Mother of fucking Souls. Ok, uh, Daiwen. You have until noon, tomorrow, to clear your name. After that, I’m pressing charges. Yishao!”

Director Cai vaulted up onto the dragoncat’s shoulders.

“Take me to my fucking office, I guess.”

They whooshed over the alley. The leaves rustled and stilled. The priest crouched down and offered Daiwen a hand. They took it blinking hard. Instead of standing, the priest opened their arms in an embrace. Daiwen sobbed into their shoulder, blood and piss be damned. The priest held Daiwen and rubbed their back until they’d run out of tears.

“You feel so tired,” said the priest.

“I am,” Daiwen half-laughed, half-cried.

“Would you like a bath?”

“Yes.”

They would’ve used necromancy to kill for one.

“Come to my room. When you’re clean, I know a ritual to make you strong again.”

The priest led Daiwen to their room but didn’t enter themself. Though large, the room was bare. There were three walls of simple wooden boards and one wall of glass that opened to a balcony holding a large, unmarked stone altar. 

A tub brimming with a mountain of fluffy bubbles sat in a corner by the sliding door. Daiwen’s punching doll, already cleaned, sat at the opposite corner. Daiwen turned its button eyes to the wall before sinking to the warmth under bubble mountain.

The priest returned as the last bubble popped. They carried a clean white towel with the park’s name embroidered in gold over their blood-stained sleeve. Daiwen stepped out of the chilled water, dripping onto the floorboards. The water ran in magically-designated rivulets to a drains at the center of the floor. The rivulets spelled out ‘Shengtaiguan Park.’

The priest snorted a laugh. Even Daiwen had to chuckle at the ridiculous extent of the park’s advertising. The priest gently tugged the towel of their damp, freshly bathed body.

“You won’t be needing this.”

They led Daiwen onto the fifth-story balcony. The morning skies above were gray with guided rain. Daiwen shivered in the wind over the treetops, every inch of skin rising in goosebumps. 

“Lie down.”

Daiwen laid flat on their back on the rough stone altar. The priest removed all of their own clothes except for the necklace of eyeball-sized wooden beads.

“I’m going to give you my strength, but you must lie very still. Your qi (氣) has to stay in alignment, or the ritual will fail. Any questions?”

“Only one.”

“Speak.”

“What god to you serve?”

“The Sleeping God,” smiled the priest.

They lowered their smile down to Daiwen’s clit. Daiwen’s breath shortened to ragged pants, but they kept their fists and teeth clenched against the vicious suck. They focused on the rough stone digging into the bare skin of their back.

A whimper escaped from behind their teeth as the priest spread their legs. The priest turned their merciless smile onto Daiwen’s swollen lips. The heel of their palm ground Daiwen’s clit against their own, traitorous mound. Daiwen grunted and squirmed.

The priest snapped the fingers of their free hand.

Thick red ropes shot up from below the altar. They seized Daiwen’s forearms, shins, and thighs. They dragged their arms and legs down the altarsides. Skin scraped raw against the stone. The taut ropes arched Daiwen’s back, forcing their tits up and completely exposing their helpless crotch to the priest.

The priest pushed their snapping fingers up Daiwen’s twitching ass. Daiwen squealed like a pig, hips bucking wildly. Their bounds held, winching their limbs down tighter and their back, higher. Daiwen’s squeal choked to a senseless gurgle.

The priest swung their leg over the side of the altar and straddled Daiwen, all their weight centered over their aligned cunts. The priest unhooked their beaded necklace and spread the strand wide between their hands. They smiled down at Daiwen.

“Say ‘ah.’”

Daiwen gulped, swallowing painfully, but they opened their mouth. The priest lowered the first bead into their mouth. Then the second. The third. The beads slid heavy as lead over Daiwen’s tongue and into their throat. As the fourth entered, the first hit the back of Daiwen’s throat.

Daiwen choked and gagged. Their eyes teared. Snot sputtered from their nostrils.

The priest pulled the necklace away, but the four beads stayed inside Daiwen. They squeezed themselves down their spasming throat and sunk to their stomach.

Daiwen gasped for breath. The priest shushed and rubbed their heaving chest until their breathing steadied. They licked the snot and tears off Daiwen’s face.

“You’re ok, you’re ok,” said the priest, kissing Daiwen’s forehead.

“I’m--I’m okay, okay.”

“Daiwen?”

They grunted weakly but knowingly. The ritual wouldn’t work unless they ate all the wooden beads. Each one went down like a lead toad scrambling to get back up. But Daiwen knew in their heart that the priest would never offer their considerable magic strength again.

“Do you want to stop?”

“No,” Daiwen croaked.

“Alright. I’m going to help you. Focus on me.”

The priest rocked over their aligned cunts, rhythmic and grinding. They rocked a lancing heat straight to the base of Daiwen’s skull. Daiwen’s head lolled back against the altar. Their toes curled and their mouth opened to a moaning ‘o.’

The priest eased the fifth bead between their lips. Daiwen groaned and strained against the ropes, but they sucked it down, bucking into the priest’s cunt. The priest lowered the next. The next.


	16. Eat Ravenously

Chapter 16: Eat Ravenously (狼吞虎咽)

A bell tolled twelve times for midnight over all of Shengtaiguan Park. Daiwen woke at the final toll on the stone altar without a single ache or pang of hunger. They were completely alone. Even the tub had gone, replaced by a clothesline.

Daiwen’s spider silk ensemble hung from wooden clothespins, completely cleaned of all dirt and fluids. They dressed slowly, lost in thought.

They had twelve hours to clear their name or they’d be tried and no doubt executed--the same fate the yaoguai had narrowly escaped. They’d had Daiwen and Esquire’s help. With the priest vanished yet again, Daiwen had no one.

They slumped against the wall in the doll’s corner and hugged their patchwork creation to their chest. They breathed, focusing on the tarp’s sticky pressure against their skin. They couldn’t afford to have a breakdown. They were on the clock.

Daiwen dropped their forehead against the doll’s. Think. They had to think. They couldn’t handle seeing Director Cai’s corpse again, not right now. That left them with the living.

The first people to arrive on scene had been the young woman and her sex posse. It was the second time that she’d gotten money out of the park. The first had been a complete accident.

Five thousand gold was an inconceivable amount of money to Daiwen, but the young woman had paid it to receive park service in the first place. It seemed unlikely that she’d been inspired to commit a high profile murder out of greed, much less stinginess, but it was possible she’d seen someone suspicious while heading to the green room. All Daiwen had to do was find her...easier said than done.

The park was huge. Worse, the new director seemed far less knowledgeable about the park’s records than the former. Not that Daiwen had any guarantee that they’d offer any help at all. They raised their head off the doll. There was only one person who might care more about the park’s safety than a personal suspicion that Daiwen was the murderer.

“Yishao?”

They held their breath. There was no response.

“I know you can hear me.”

The rooftop gardens had muffled the young woman’s call, but the dragoncat had heard her all the same. Daiwen set the doll down and sat up straight on their knees.

“I know I look like the killer. I’m not. I want to know what happened to Director Cai, maybe just as much as you.”

The silence stretched on. They were running out of time and options. Daiwen rose to their feet, hands curled to fists. They had no choice but to go for the throat.

“You’re the head of security, aren’t you? I’ve seen how powerful you are. But this murder still happened right under your nose,” they let the point sink in for several seconds. 

“Once the new director realizes you’re not all you’re cracked up to be, and they will, that’s the beginning of the end. Little by little, they’re gonna take back everything you’ve worked so hard all your life to get. And everyone you’ve ever known and everyone you’ll ever meet at this park will know. Your face? Will be eternally fucked.”

The door slid open so fast it slammed the end of the metal track. The dragoncat’s massive head filled the doorway. They hissed like a knife of glass.

Daiwen clapped their hands over their ears until Yishao had finished. The dragoncat made no move to run off. Daiwen shrugged on their backpack.

“Thank you for your cooperation.”

\--/--

Yishao the dragoncat leaped from the fifth story balcony into the midnight sky with Daiwen on their back. The wind whipped away their scream along with their hair. Daiwen pressed themself as flat as they could to Yishao’s ridged back, their arms and legs squeezing the half-scaled, half-furred body under them in a death grip.

The dragoncat flew over the treetops and park attractions, their paws treading air like water. Daiwen lifted their head just off Yishao’s shoulder. The sliver of moon between the clouds dropped down into a perfect copy over the surface of the glassy lake. Yishao flew between the two moons. Despite the fear stiffening their limbs, Daiwen broke into a marvelling laugh.

Yishao took them across the lake over the towering, tropical expanse of Jungleland. They passed a billboard as long as the dragoncat’s own body depicting a couple of screaming lovers sinking into a tarpit: ‘The Swallowing Tar You’ll Never Want to Escape!’ Up ahead, a mountain of rattling metal rails rose up under the moon. The screams bleeding out into the surrounding jungle sounded less throe of passion and more primal fear of death. More confusingly, nothing about the death metal mountain seemed to have anything to do with tar--not that anyone in the long, winding queue to the ride minded.

Yishao didn’t mind the queue. The dragoncat leaped right over the gasping line of park patrons to a platform by the road of rails. A line of metal carts rattled up to a stop.

The young woman climbed into the cart at the back. Yishao threw Daiwen off their shoulders and into the air. Daiwen yelped. The dragoncat snatched the back of their jacket between their teeth and dropped Daiwen into the cart in front of the woman’s. The young woman raised an eyebrow.

“Why is the murderer riding the rollercoaster?”

“I’m not--we’re looking for the real…” Daiwen looked down.

The cart was little more than an oversized metal bowl on wheels, but its floor was marked with flowing, magical glyphs much like ancient Tien characters. The glyphs glowed a soft white. A thick sludge tar bubbled up from the floor. It slopped in heavy, ropey strands over Daiwen’s feet and legs.

“Eugh.”

Daiwen flattened themself to the wall of the cart, sitting in a squat. But the tar kept bubbling up, climbing their legs. The young woman laughed.

“A little tar too much for you, murderer? Better get off now.”

“Could I please just ask you a couple questions?”

“You literally could not have picked a worse place.”

As though on cue, the tar burst up from its puddle. Daiwen shrieked. The tar splattered all the way to their neck. The sticky, weighty ropes shook like jelly over Daiwen’s skin. They expanded out to fill the entire cart. They didn’t stop filling there.

Daiwen gasped as the tar sludged into their clothes, their underwear. The heavy, gluey mass pressed hard against their skin. It groped the soft flesh of their breasts, thighs, and ass. The tar tightened over every covered inch, squeezing their clit, cunt, and anus in a mercilessly intimate grip.

Daiwen yelped and squirmed in the block of tar. They couldn’t budge against the heavy black mass. Their writhing only made the tar grip down harder, crushing another gasp from their chest. Their clit twitched under the pressure. Their holes bent inward.

“Oh, fuck,” they rasped.

“We haven’t even started moving,” the young woman cackled.

A loud whistle drowned out Daiwen’s pathetic whine, but they were stuck backward, facing the young woman. She bit her lip at their half-pleasured predicament.

Daiwen flushed to the tips of their ears as the carts rolled and rattled up the side of the metal mountain. The vibrations travelled straight from the joined cart and tar into Daiwen’s core. They jumped at the visceral jolt up their trapped cunt, but the heavy tar kept them firmly in place.

The carts pitched over the side of the mountain. Daiwen’s groaned turned to a scream of raw terror as the sudden vacuum of gravity tried to rip them out of the black sludge. Their skin, their clit, ground against the tar.

The carts hit the bottom of the track. All the lost pressure returned with interest. Daiwen slammed back into their squatting seat. The tar rammed an inch up inside them, expanding and stretching the walls of their ass and vagina. Daiwen grunted and huffed, straining from the neck up.

The young woman only laughed and moaned as the carts rattled up a second, higher slope. The vibrations now lancing up the inside and outside of Daiwen’s groped cunt and asshole were too much. They came with a whimper.

The young woman’s eyes dilated at Daiwen’s shameless, twisted face. She bit both lips, head lolling back and bouncing over the tar as she rode out her own orgasm.

The carts dropped. Daiwen and the young woman screamed themselves raw in fear and grinding bliss. The carts hit bottom. The tar rammed deeper up into their holes, crushing them to the top of their vaginal ridges. Daiwen grunted and snorted in shock and spasm. The young woman mewled across from them.

The carts rolled and dived into a corkscrewing loop, battering them against the tar. The black mass tightened down with every jerk, squeezing further inside. It stretched them as wide as a fist in both shafts.

The highspeed battering blurred to a crushing, grinding stretch. All fear turned to shrieking, spasming pleasure. The entire cart vibrated into Daiwen. The tar pounded deeper and deeper up both shafts, railing them to the inner mouth of their own womb.

Daiwen was still convulsing in orgasm when the carts pulled up to the exit platform. The tar shuddered with them. It sucked down to the bottom of the cart, torturously slow. It took nearly a minute before the black mass had drown below the level of Daiwen’s crotch. It sucked off their clit over the squelching in their holes, leaving Daiwen a weak, quivering heap. Their dammed up slick ran like piss down their legs.

Despite her experience, the young woman was hardly in a better state. Fortunately for her, she could afford to have her four favored shifters lift her gently from the metal bowl in which she’d left her own little puddle of slick. She pointed at Daiwen but addressed the shifters.

“Them. Get them too.”

“Yes, Countess Gao (杲).”

The turtle-shelled humanoid scooped Daiwen up in their bulky arms and carried them off the platform with the countess. The four shifters took the two of them away from the ride and through the tropical forest to the base of a jungle treehouse. They stepped into a large hollow at the base of the mossy, towering tree. Magic glyphs glowed soft white in the wooden floor under them.

The circle of woode directly below their feet lifted off the floor. It took them leisurely up the trunk. Long glass windows embedded on the bark kept the flowering vines and night sky nearby. The lift slowed to a stop in a large, low-ceilinged living room.

The shifters took off their shoes and helped Daiwen and the countess remove theirs. They set the two on green-cushioned, wicker couches on opposite sides of a low, wooden tea table. A wicker fan turned rhythmically overhead.

The snake-headed shifter kneeled on a matching cushion at the head of the countess’s couch. The tiger kneeled at the foot. The red-fathered and shelled shifters left for the kitchen.

Daiwen sat up on their couch, their strength returning much faster than usual. A floor-to-ceiling window followed the curve of the living room overlooking bright green treetops and a little canopy garden’s worth of vibrant, foreign flowers. Fireflies, something they did recognize, flitted in the darkness between the trees.

“That mouth’s gonna to catch flies,” said the countess.

She pushed herself up to a seat just as the bird and turtle shifters returned with a steaming clay kettle and tea set. They poured bright, crystalline green tea into six clay cups. Daiwen nodded in thanks before taking a sip.

“So you’re not the real murderer.”

“No.”

“What’s your name?”

“Daiwen.”

“What do you want to know, Daiwen?”

“Did you see anything strange when you went to the green room?”

“It’s hard to say what anyone’s gonna do when they’re orgasmed out of their mind. So yeah, there was a lot of strangeness on the way up but nothing out of the ordinary.”

“How about anyone coming out of your room?”

Countess Gao snorted, breaking into a laugh. She elbowed the bird and turtle shifters beside her. They snickered. The mocking laughter trickled down to the snake and tiger.

Daiwen blinked in confusion, face burning with shame.

“Wha--”

But they couldn’t get a word in edgewise until the countess straightened up and wiped her eyes.

“Who are you?” she asked. “How’d you even get in here? I mean, you’re obviously too ignorant to be a conman. Are you some accidental assassin?”

The impoliteness was almost more shocking than it was insulting. Almost. Daiwen vented their bristling anger with a deep breath. They launched right into the story of the priest and the spirit gates before the countess could drop another insulting word.

“So, no. I was just at the wrong place at the wrong time and got framed by whoever wanted the director dead. Or the killer. I don’t know if they’re the same--”

Countess Gao yawned. She stood up from the couch in a languid stretch. The shifters stood with her.

“Thanks, that was really boring.”

“Wait, you didn’t answer--”

The countess rolled her eyes and held up a hand.

“Look, Daiwen, it’s not healthy to be sitting this long. I’m gonna go...get refreshed. You, however, are free to sit here and wait until I’m done.”

“How long will you be?”

“Oh, I don’t know. An hour? Two? My friends are on strict orders not to let me tap out until I can’t lift my own head.”

“But the questions will only take a minute.”

“If you think you can get me there any faster, you’re welcome to lend a hand. Toodles.”

The countess gave Daiwen a finger-waggling wave and turned to the bedroom. The shifters shrugged behind her, the animal faces plastered with shit-eating grins. They followed after her, leaving Daiwen at the tea table.

Daiwen growled behind the wall of their clenched teeth. They knocked back the last of their tea and tromped after the countess and her sex posse. For once, the countess said nothing. She only held one hand out behind her, a victorious smirk on her lips as their little fingers liked.


	17. Crumbs of the Feast

Chapter 17: Crumbs of the Feast (殘茶剩飯)

The bedroom was as large as the living room--it was, in fact, exactly the same size and shape down to the gently curved window wall and softly ticking fan. Couches, tables, and decorations had been replaced with futons rolled, tied, and stacked along one of the bare walls. Countess Gao had Daiwen and the four shifters line up against the other, completely naked.

She chuckled at Daiwen’s grimace, tucking a strand of shorn hair behind their ear.

“If you don’t want to be here...then leave.”

“No, I do.”

“Then put on a nice face for me.”

Daiwen swallowed their grimace and forced themself to smile. The countess only laughed harder. Daiwen flushed from their chest to the tips of their ears. Countess Gao trailed a long-nailed finger along their collarbone.

“That is definitely a better look for you. Kneel.”

Daiwen grumbled wordlessly but sank down to their knees. The countess knotted her fingers in their hair and tilted their head back until their crown bumped the wall. Daiwen glared up at her with anger, shame, and pure, unabashed challenge. The countess’s bedroom was clearly not a space for politeness.

Countess Gao’s smile twisted to a lip-biting smirk. She stepped her cunt into Daiwen’s face. The shifters gathered around, stroking each others’s cocks and cunt.

“Suck my clit.”

Daiwen snorted and grabbed her hips. The bead of her clit was already red and erect. Daiwen checked the slit with their tongue. The countess shivered, her skin breaking into goosebumps. But she needed to be wetter.

Daiwen rubbed two fingers over her lips as their tongue traced tortuous circles around her clit. They rubbed her slick all the way to her anus. The puckered hole twitched over their fingers. The countess whimpered at the edge of orgasm.

Daiwen chuckled and continued to edge her. They pushed a finger through her lips, the tip grazing her ridges. Just the tip. Their tongue rawed her twitching clit, but they didn’t suck her.

The countess began to whine through her nose like a bitch. Her hips bounced needily at Daiwen’s tongue for more pressure.

Daiwen pulled their finger out. They grabbed the countess by the soft, cupped flesh of her ass and held her off them.

“I want to hear you beg.”

“Never, you stupid peasant!” she hissed breathlessly.

“Ok,” they shrugged.

They dropped their hands to their knees and sat back on their heels with the pleasant smile Countess Gao had asked for. The countess huffed and stamped their foot.

“Fine.”

She ordered the snake-headed shifter to come eat her ass, still standing with her cunt in Daiwen’s face. She braced her hands on their shoulders. The snake spread her cheeks with a hiss and applied their forked tongue directly to her asshole. That must’ve felt great coming from a sex-certified shifter, but Countess Gao couldn’t stop glaring down at Daiwen.

Daiwen decided to help her make up her mind. They leaned forward and nuzzled her deprived, throbbing clit as they tongued her slit. The countess shuddered and moaned.

“Nngh, fuck you!”

“Getting warmer.”

“Argh! Please! Please just suck me!”

Wonder of wonders, politeness had returned to the bedroom. Daiwen could hardly deny the countess after that minor miracle. They sucked her clit until she screamed.

Countess Gao pulled Daiwen’s head off them by the hair, tilting their head back to the wall. She licked her own slick off Daiwen’s nose, mouth, and tongue. The crowd of masturbating shifters parted.

The countess led Daiwen by the hair on their hands and knees onto the open hardwood floor. She snapped the fingers of her free hand at the hulking, turtle-shelled shifter.

“Mount this fucking peasant.”

Daiwen squeaked as two heavy, clawed hands grabbed them around the thighs and dragged them backward. Daiwen’s fingers instinctively scrabbled over the polished floorboards to stay up on all fours. The turtle pulled the cleft of Daiwen’s ass snug with their hot, solid dick. Fleshy ridges rose up against the soft skin, forcing their cheeks ever so slightly apart.

Daiwen swallowed hard. The clawed hands clamped down on their shoulders. The shifter bent over them, pressing the crushing weight of their upper body against Daiwen’s back. Daiwen’s arms and legs trembled, threatening collapse. The shifter’s breath prickled the skin of their neck.

“Where do you want it?”

“I-if you put it in my ass,” they squeaked, “you can cum inside me.”

“So considerate,” the turtle shifter chuckled. “I could almost kiss you.”

They didn’t. They screwed the fleshy, ridged mass of their cock up Daiwen’s asshole. Daiwen screamed and bucked. Then ridges wriggled against their stretched walls. They thrashed, shrieking at the alien pleasure.

The shifter shoved them to the floor, chest flat, ass up. Their muscled bulk pinned them down. Their thick tail slithered between Daiwen’s trembling thighs. Every pound pushed the rough tail further over their crotch until the blunted tip nudged their swollen lips.

It curled double and entered, pushing the walls of Daiwen’s cunt against their stuffed anus. The shifter’s weight crushed Daiwen’s piglike squeal to a sputtering snort. Their shafts convulsed. They squirmed helplessly under the turtle trapping and mounting them.

Daiwen wouldn’t have noticed the shifter rising off their back except that the merciless thrusting had stopped. A needy whimper rose from the back of their throat.

Countess Gao only laughed. The turtle shifter wrapped their arms around Daiwen, pulling them against their broad chest, and rolled back onto their shell.

Daiwen squealed, kicking and flailing for balance. The snake shifter caught them below the knees and spread their legs. Daiwen’s breath hitched as the snake sank down and pressed the head of their own dick against Daiwen’s tail-stuffed mouth.

“You’re not going to fit,” they rasped.

“Will you trust me?” asked the snake.

“Y-yes.”

THey pushed their head into Daiwen’s wet, stuffed hole. Daiwen screamed, backing arching against the turtle’s chest, but the turtle shifter held them down in vice-like grip. There was nowhere to run. The snake shifter forced their dick past the turtle’s rough, scraping tail, stretching Daiwen’s shaft wider than a fist. The walls of both shafts wracked Daiwen’s helpless body with spasms.

Daiwen huffed and grunted, their head lolling back. Then the countess straddled their mound. The snake shifter’s hands groped her breasts, holding her as rocked on Daiwen. She ground both of their cunts over the pounding in Daiwen’s holes.

Daiwen lost every last measure of control. Their body went rigid, toes curling as every muscle clenched. They came sobbing in senseless pleasure.

“Let’s put that lazy mouth to work,” said the countess.

The red-feathered shifter lowered their beak to Daiwen’s ear. They couldn’t catch the words but got the gist--tap if they couldn’t breathe.

The bird sat on Daiwen’s fluid-leaking face, muffling their cries with their cloaca. The tiger shifter stepped over Daiwen, shoving the countess’s laughing mouth onto their cock. The bird buried their beak up the tiger’s ass.

The four shifters moved in and against Daiwen and the countess with single-minded intent. The shifters kept them wracking with orgasm after orgasm until the snake finally pulled out of Daiwen’s battered cunt. They came up the countess’s back.

The countess shuddered and squealed around the tiger’s dick. Cum burst into her mouth at the same time as it gushed up Daiwen’s ass. Daiwen moaned into the bird’s cloaca. The red-feathered shifter squirted down their throat.

Daiwen coughed and choked. They swallowed half of the bird’s leak but spilled the rest onto the hardwood. The clear liquid drained across the floor in rivulets spelling out the park’s name. Daiwen, the shifters, and even the countess snorted weakly in bemusement.

As Daiwen pulled their clothes and backpack over the sticky, drained body, Countess Gao ordered the bird shifter to explain why their earlier question had been answered with a mocking laugh. 

Once a room was reserved, no one could enter without the reservee or the director themself. Therefor, no, Countess Gao hadn’t seen anyone leave her green room nor could anyone have done so. Which left Daiwen back at square one.

They left the treehouse on foot to give themself time to think. They were alone on the winding Junglepath except for the fireflies winking between the vines and trees. The morning darkness had lightened to a misty gray by the time the green roof of the Yueliang Stairs peeked over the treeline.

The park’s central tower was gigantic, looming over twenty stories above the themed grounds. Five separate railroads wrapped around the tower at different floors, each carting off trains of empty cars to different attractions. The guests must’ve been sleeping peacefully or less peacefully occupied, but all blissfully unaware of the murder that had happened right over their noses.

Daiwen stopped on a living bridge made of braided roots and branches. This last stretch of Junglepath reached through a curtain of magically engineered falling rain all the way to the giant red doors of the tower.

Daiwen clenched their fists and raised their head. They had to do it. They had to see their lover’s body. They crossed under the curtain of rain. The red doors opened to the heart of Shengtaiguan Park.

\--/--

Daiwen knocked on the sliding door of the director’s office.

“It’s Daiwen. Can I come in?”

There was a muffled thunk from inside. A curse. The door slid open to the new Director Cai beside their new desk, leaning on one palm. A few papers floated and settled onto the piles burying the desk like a rabbit house in a snowdrift.

“Did you, ah, find the killer? Or are you still the prime suspect?”

“Your brother doesn’t think I did it.”

“Ok, first of all, ouch. Second of all, what do you want?”

“I’m very sorry about this, but I need to see his body.”

The new director cringed.

“What? What is it?”

“He’s, uh, right where we left him.”

“You just left him there?”

“I’m sorry, okay? It’s just everything happened so fucking fast--I just…” they sighed, deflating like a human-shaped balloon. “I’ll go with you.”

Daiwen crossed the long, fire-walled office to place a hand on their slumped shoulder.

“Maybe it’s better if you didn’t.”

Director Cai couldn’t raise their eyes off the ground, but they placed their hand over Daiwen’s. They removed Daiwen’s hand from their shoulder.

“No,” they said softly but for the first time with total certainty. “I have to see him--it for myself.”

Daiwen and the director walked side by side up flight after flight of stairs to the rooftop gardens. They were both drenched in sweat when they’d reached the top. Director Cai doubled over for a breather, hands braced on their knees.

“Next time...we take...the lift.”

Once their breaths steadied, the two walked down the green-walled alley to the room. The leaves rustled at a soft, natural breeze. It was exactly the same hour of the morning at which Daiwen had woken. Their skin prickled at the sudden feeling that they would walk in on themself committing the murder.

But there was no one in the open-air room except for the former director, his body curled in a red-plastered ring on its side. The new director froze beside Daiwen, the blood draining from their face. Daiwen left the director to step into the ring.

Daiwen sat cross-legged. They reached out to the edge of a limp, gossamer fin and closed their eyes. Their aura flared purple.

They couldn’t summon the former director’s spirit, not with the new director watching. Instead, they let their aua expand in a flickering purple wave. As it washed through the body, Daiwen’s consciousness followed into the decaying tissues and cells.

The cells were slowing but surely shrinking in on themselves, breaking the body apart with a rootlike network of microtears. Daiwen followed the worst of the rifts and fissures to the underside of the director’s scaled torso. It had been torn open all the way through the bone with a single, killing stroke. The hole had filled with--

Daiwen yanked their hand off the fin, pulling their fist to their chest. Their aura immediately winked out at the shock. Their shoulders shook, vision blurring.

The new director snapped out of their frozen denial. They leaped over the body into the ring with Daiwen. They held Daiwen to their chest, just as their brother had. Daiwen swallowed hard, too numb to feel the tears on their cheeks.

“They took his heart.”

They couldn’t see it or feel it, but somehow they knew that the director’s hands curled to fists on the other side of their punching doll.


	18. The Cat Who Weeps for the Dead Mouse

Chapter 18: The Cat Who Weeps for the Dead Mouse (貓哭老鼠)

Daiwen and the director stood on opposite sides of the lift, their backs to the glass wall overlooking the park. The lift stopped on every floor for guests in colorful clothes, robes, and costumes. They all blurred together into a single, faceless river of color that ebbed and flowed at the lift’s chime. If the director hadn’t tugged their hand, Daiwen would’ve swept down to the next floor with the tide.

Director Cai led Daiwen back to a throne-sized, wooden armchair across from the office fire. The director poured two shots of white, sorghum wine (高粱酒), clinking their glass to Daiwen’s without a word. Daiwen tapped two fingers against the hard arm of the chair and knocked theirs back with a single swig.

The director refilled both shot glasses before dropping into the other armchair. The two turned just enough to stare directly into the magically silenced inferno dancing along the wall. Director Cai was the one to finally break the silence with a snort and half a smile.

“My brother would kill me if he caught me serving baijiu (白酒) to a guest for breakfast.”

“I’m not a guest,” said Daiwen, their voice barely over a whisper. “Before he died, he signed me on with the janitorial staff.”

The director dropped their head into their hand, laughing.

“You’re not--you’re not even a guest.”

As their shoulders shook with growing violence, their barks of laughter broke down into sobs.

Daiwen set their glass down on the arm of their chair and approached the director. They removed the glass from their hand, setting it beside the other. They returned to sit on the arm of the director’s chair. 

They pulled Director Cai’s back to their chest, hugging them with their arms and legs like a warmer version of their backpack. The director dropped their tear-streaked cheek to Daiwen’s thigh.

“It should’ve been me,” they rasped.

Daiwen stiffened. Had the new director known who or why the old director had been killed this whole time? When Daiwen finally spoke, they kept their tone as neutral and polite as possible.

“What do you men?”

“He was supposed to be on vacation!” they sobbed. “I was supposed to be acting director. But I didn’t want to step the fuck up. I asked him to postpone until after Spidermoon Festival, so he did and now he’s dead and I’m--”

Daiwen hushed them, rubbing their silk-clad shoulders. The confession still left them clueless but harmlessly so. They held the grieving sibling a little tighter.

“If you think like that, you might as well turn yourself in for the murder.”

Director Cai fell completely silent at that. They were a creature of pleasure like everyone else at the park. They’d never do anything that would take away their freedom.

“You’re...you’re right. It’s just...I’d do anything to have him back.”

“He’s gone, Director Cai. But you’re not alone.”

The director tilted their head back against Daiwen’s chest, looking directly up at them between the short black curtains of their hair. Director Cai squeezed their hand.

“I’m gonna help you find the killer. Daiwen, I’m sorry I--”

“Don’t.”

Director Cai closed their mouth. They reached up with both hands. Daiwen placed their hands in the director’s, fingers lacing. Though their faces were upside down, their lips found the other’s anyway. Daiwen above and the director below leaned into the kiss.

Cool magic washed through Director Cai’s mouth into Daiwen. The two floated up off the massive chair and over the line of fire. The director’s fingers shifted like fluid between Daiwen’s, growing to long, silver-taloned claws. Their midnight black scales were as sleek as a fish’s. Their tongue lengthened until its burning tip flicked the back of Daiwen’s throat.

Daiwen and the director pulled back, remaining linked only at the fingers. Director Cai’s long, serpentine body curled midnight black up into the soaring space above the fire. Silver, gossamer fins billowed out from their coils. They cringed, forked tongue flicking.

“Sorry, I, uh, got a little excited.”

“Good,” said Daiwen. “Help me with my clothes.”

The director’s snakelike face split into a needle-toothed grin. They rolled like a crocodile, switching places over Daiwen. Director Cai raised Daiwen up by one hand. The other stripped Daiwen of everything they owned here in Other Shenmen. They hit the floor with a series of light smacks.

Daiwen grabbed the director’s hand with both of theirs.

“Your dick,” they chirped.

“Are you, uh, sure you--”

“I want to suck you.”

This time, there were ready. Director Cai’s dangerous grin turned sheepish, but they curled their body under Daiwen. THey straddled their scaled torso and crawled down to their midnight black dick lined with silver ridges. The director’s dick made it halfway down Daiwen’s throat before the ridges fully expanded.

Daiwen held their breath and rocked on the scaled torso between their legs. The faster they bucked and ground their cunt, the deeper their mouth sank onto Director Cai’s dick. They rocked themself into orgasm, groaning the last of their breath onto the dick stuffing their throat.

The director squeaked, a bead of precum oozing down their stretched wall.

“Oh, fuck, can we, uh, change positions?”

Daiwen nodded and snorted for breath on their dick. Director Cai bit down carefully on their neck and eased their dick from Daiwen’s mouth. Daiwen panted for breath but turned over their shoulder to give the director a slobbery grin. They’d done it.

The director laughed not at but with their triumph, their teeth digging deeper without breaking the skin. They winked one black and silver-slit eye and tossed Daiwen into the air.

Daiwen yelped and flailed, but they didn’t fall. The director’s spell kept them aloft, floating between the gossamer waves of their silver fins. Daiwen whooped and cackled, soaring up through the office, the hollow heart of the whole tower.

The director flew up after them, laughing. Daiwen spread their arms. They dived back-first down the tower. Director Cai whipped around as they fell past, diving after them. Their fins flowed up in silver streams.

Daiwen reached up, lacing their fingers between the director’s claws. Both slowed in their fall. The gossamer fins whooshed out past them both, swallowing them in silver.

Daiwen’s backside bumped the wooden wall over the office fire. The heat prickled their dangling legs. Director Cai spread their arms, pinning Daiwen’s wrists out to either side of them. THe director’s tail wrapped around one thigh. They pulled Daiwen’s leg out of the way of their cock, pinning their thigh to the wall as well.

Daiwen’s one free leg kicked and shook as the director’s dick tore the walls of their vagina apart. Then the ridges expanded. Daiwen kicked and screamed. Their back bucked and banged the wood.

Director Cai let go of one wrist to clamp their taloned hand over Daiwen’s mouth. They shushed Daiwen, cringing apologetically. Daiwen quieted down to an indignant moan. The director removed their hand.

“Sorry, I’m really sorry--I just didn’t want Yishao to, uh, come take a peek.”

Daiwen’s cunt clenched around the director’s dick not in passion but with a sudden pang of fear. Director Cai yelped and pulled out. They came on the underside of Daiwen’s thigh.

“Fuck, sorry.”

“Can Yishao get into a reserved room?”

“Uh, yeah. We had them bound as the park’s guardian so they can go anywhere.”

“Bound? Against their will?”

“We, uh, never really thought to ask. Do spirits even have wills?”

Fuck.

The fire along the entire wall went out beneath them.

Double fuck.

“What the--”

Daiwen clamped their hand over the director’s mouth. Director Cai’s eyes widened at the fear in theirs. Daiwen pointed down at their clothes and the punching doll. The director nodded and let them go.

Daiwen took a shaky breath. They jumped off the wall. At an arm’s length away from their jacket, a half-scaled, half-furred arm as long as a human swiped out from the fireplace. Razor-sharp claws raked through their naked side.

Red splattered the floor. Daiwen wheeled up and away, gritting their teeth through the pain.

“Fuck! Shit! Fuck!” swore Director Cai.

The director swooped off the wall, coming up with their back between Daiwen’s legs. They yanked their koi-fin tail away from the slashing claws with a yelp.

“Hold on!”

They rocketed up the soaring office. Daiwen held on to their silver ridges for dear life. They pressed themself as flat as they could to the midnight scales. 

The higher they flew, the narrower the walls became. Woode snapped with a thunderous crack. Yishao’s claws slashed at them in the spray of splinters.

Daiwen and the director screamed and spun away but continued to rocket up Yishao’s wood-snapping strikes followed from above and below. As the walls closed in toward the wooden ceiling, their shearing claws only slashed closer.

Only an arm’s length from the rafters, the wood burst directly under the director. Black claws tore through midnight underbelly and silver fins.

Daiwen screamed. Director Cai only wheezed, eyes rolling back. Their senseless body hurtled through the rafters. They burst into through a blur of green leaf and gray sky. Daiwen and the director tumbled up in a slowing wheel of black and silver.

The dragon’s body unfurled like slanted sheet of laundry between parent and child. Though the director was out cold, they stayed afloat under the curtain of flying rain.

A white and gold blur launched up from the gardens, silent as death.

“Wake up! Wake up!”

But the director couldn’t.

Time slowed with the rain above. The dragoncat’s scaled and whiskered head crystallized under Daiwen and the director. The black claws of both paws flexed to strike, kill. Daiwen’s aura flared purple.

Yishao’s claws sheared through silver. An orange-gold blur tackled the dragoncat away from the black.

Yishao hissed and screeched. The dragoncat and the undead dragon spun into the curtains of flying rain. Yishao slashed and ripped red ribbons from the ex-director. The ex-director struck back with the strength of inescapable death.

The curtains ran pink over the park. The current director woke at the gut-twisting shrieks. They were just in time to watch the dragoncat drop to the green gardens as a body and a head. They looked up to see what could’ve caused Yishao’s fall. Their brother floated between the pink curtains, more ribbon-draped skeleton than dragon.

Director Cai’s head dropped.

“I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“I’m sorry--I’m so sorry.”

“I know...I know I said I’d give anything to have him back, but...”

The director shook under Daiwen. Black and silver scales disintegrated off their body and up into the rain. They shrunk back to sobbing, human form.

Daiwen held their arms out uncertainly. Director Cai dropped their face onto Daiwen’s naked shoulder without touching any other part of them. Their cries weakened as the clouds cleared overhead.

“You should--should probably get out of here,” they mumbled into Daiwen’s shoulder.

“I have something to tell you, but I don’t think you’ll like it.”

“I don’t think this day could get any worse.”

“Since your brother’s awake now, I can help him find his heart.”

“...yeah, no, I don’t like it--”

“I’m sorry, but I need to do this.”

“For him? Or for you?”

“For both of us.”

Probably. They only knew the last spirit in Laoshi City had been eager to find their body.

The director raised their head off Daiwen’s shoulder and cleared their nose with a sniff.

“Daiwen...be careful.”

“I will.”

With the last of Director Cai’s flying spell, they leaped up into the dancing rain. The ex-director swooped under them, catching Daiwen on the back of their serpentine spine. They flew out from Shengtaiguan Park into the brightening sky.


	19. Drink the Water, Remember the Source

Chapter 19: Drink the Water, Remember the Source (飲水思源)

They’d flown west from the heart of the Mingdao Wood (冥道森林) for nearly an hour before Daiwen realized they were riding naked on the ex-director’s serpentine spine. They looked back at the endless green under the rising sun. Their hands slipped in wind jetting off the dragon.

Daiwen snapped back to attention, failing for a grip. They slipped down the side of the bone. Their hands slapped the spine, the wind whipping away their scream. Their fingers grasped at thin air. Daiwen fell off the dragon.

Their back slammed a solid, scaled claw. Black talons as long as Daiwen’s own legs closed around them, a safety cage. Daiwen steadied their breath. They sat up with their legs around one claw, bare feet dangling in the jetting wind. 

Any remaining desire to turn back blew away with wind. They just hoped there’d be clothes to spare wherever the ex-director was taking them.

Ex-Director Cai finally landed on a dusty plateau in the Yousi Mountains (游絲山). They opened their caging claw. Daiwen hopped down into the orange dust and hopped straight back up. The ground burned under the high noon sun. There wasn’t a single cloud in sight.

The ex-director stepped on either side of Daiwen, offering the hole-ridden shade of their half-flesh, half-skeletal form. Daiwen patted their scaled foreleg in thanks. It was better than nothing. They walked under the dragon’s opened chest toward glints of metal waving in the heat.

The closer they got to the growing glints of what had to be a mining town, the more crows descended from the blazing sky above. The large, black birds circled and squawked at the undead dragon. When the ex-director continued to shamble mindlessly forward, they perched down on their back, pecking at the gore.

Daiwen shuddered and forced their head toward the town. A line of crows perched on the town’s metal gateway, the name obscured by their white shit. Despite the dragon’s shade, Daiwen held their arms over their head and crossed under the gateway.

Every crow squawked and flapped up from every corner of the town into soaring tunnel to the burning heavens. They left the gaping metal buildings below covered in white shit and black feathers. As the wind died down, the reek of decay crept into Daiwen’s nose and mouth as thick and heavy as shit.

There were bodies everywhere, spoiling under the sun. It was as though the whole town had left their homes only to be struck down by...it had to have been magic. But there, at the center of town--movement.

Daiwen ran toward the survivor, the ex-director keeping pace. Daiwen and dragon skidded to a stop at the edge of the ruined plaza, orange clouds billowing out from under them. The squatting, dust-covered survivor never looked back.

All that remained in the plaza was a metal-roofed well with half its stones caved into its hole. Outside the plaza, the survivor had built a low wall. The top layer of mortar was still wet. The survivor continued to put down mortar with their trowel.

“Excuse me!”

The survivor turned. They raised their dust-covered goggles and squinted at Daiwen.

“You’re naked,” their squint turned on the ex-director, “and your dragon seems to be--”

They raked their gloved hands through the air, flinging mortar on the dust and bodies at their feet. Daiwen folded an arm across their chest and lowered a hand over their crotch.

“Sorry, do you have any clothes to spare.”

“Take your pick,” they shrugged, turning back to the wall.

There was stealing, then there was stealing the clothes off a dead person’s back. Daiwen stepped behind the dragon’s leg instead. They shouted across the plaza.

“If it’s not too much to ask, what happened here?”

“The Whispering Way came through--I take it you’re looking for them?”

“Should I be?”

“They’re a cult of necromancers, like us.”

The survivor snapped their fingers. The nearest, hole-pecked body rose up from the dust. It laid down on the new mortar like any soft bed.

Despite the blazing heat, Daiwen’s blood ran cold as the ‘survivor’ trowelled more mortar around the body. The wall and its peeking bits of not-brick swam at the edges of their vision. They braced their arms against the ex-director’s leg for support and called out as lightly as they could.

“The Whispering Way didn’t come for a dragon heart, did they?”

The other necromancer froze. A glob of mortar fell from their raised trowel onto the body’s half-buried head. The necromancer straightened. They turned, very slowly, toward Daiwen and the undead dragon.

Their eyes locked across the plaza. Daiwen’s pulse pounded in their ears. The necromancer’s aura flared electric green. The bodies rose. The ex-director shifted low and coiled in the rising walls of dust. Daiwen huddled under them on the balls of their feet, muscles tensed.

The dead struck without a sound. Their clawing hands tore through the dust.

The dragon slammed them away with one leg. A second wave piled onto the other, ripping and biting.

A hand grabbed Daiwen. They yelped and swung their fist, eyes squeezed shut. Their hand never connected with the dead.

Hands grabbed their arms, their legs, their body. The dead shoved Daiwen to the ground, ripping and piling onto them. Daiwen burst into a wide-eyed shriek.

An undead chomped down between their throat and shoulder. The shriek choked off with a bloody gurgle.

The dragon rose up off the ground, throwing off the dead. For every ten that thunked to the burning earth, another twenty sprang through the orange dust at the ex-director. They coiled and lashed out over Daiwen.

The dragon’s tail swung into the pile on Daiwen, bowling them over. Daiwen, coated in blood and dirt, forced themself onto their shaking hands and knees. The knocked-down dead rose with them.

Daiwen crawled as fast as they could. Hands grabbed their feet and ankles, dragging them back. They clawed at the dust.

The dragon’s tail swung back. The dead went flying. So did Daiwen.

Daiwen slammed into the caved wall of the well. Cracked mortar broke under them. The stones fell away. Daiwen plummeted back-first into darkness. Their scream echoed up the stones to the vanishing sliver of light.

Their back hit water hard as rock. The splash drowned out the snap and shatter. Cold waves swallowed Daiwen up. 

They couldn’t move a muscle. The couldn’t feel a thing over their burning lungs. All they could see was black and the dying flicker of their own aura.

The icy water rushed out from Daiwen’s lungs, streaming from their nose and mouth in a flurry of bubbles. The bubbles pressed together into a pocket of air around Daiwen’s head. As they sputtered and gasped for breath, four glowing blue eyes pierced the dark waters in front of them.

A warrior in bamboo-slat armor floated an arm’s length from Daiwen’s face. They wore the silk-wrapped upper skull of a needle-toothed fish. The silk extended out from the skull with a translucent, fleshy bulb swaying from its end.

“I am Shuishenmen (水神門), guardian of the water gate. You are dying.”

“I don’t want to die,” Daiwen rasped, spitting blood.

“What do you want?”

“I just want to go home.”

“I can put your body back together again, but the process may be painful.”

“You...don’t care I’m a necromancer?”

“You’re a necromancer?”

Oops. Daiwen winced, but the spirit only laughed. Bubbles flurried out from their mouth, spiralling both up and down through the black water.

“I’ve long stopped caring who or what passes through the gate. So, shall I heal you? Or would you rather give me your life?”

“Please heal me.”

The guardian closed their fist. The fleshy bulb swaying from their skull glowed as blue as their eyes. Red blood and orange dust misted off of Daiwen’s body into the surrounding waters. A delicate skin of water pressed against their unfeeling skin.

The spirit gathered Daiwen’s wrists in one hand. They pulled Daiwen neither up nor down but in the direction from which they’d appeared. As they led Daiwen through the dark, the passing water laid over and joined the delicate skin. It grew thicker, heavier, into a skintight wall of water. It pressed harder against Daiwen’s broken body, pushing shattered bones and ripped tissue back into place.

The spirit began to sing. Though soft, their voice rang through the water and resounded in Daiwen’s core:

“I dreamed a dream in times gone by  
I dreamed that gods would be forgiving.”

The walls of water squeezed down against Daiwen, kneading. Waves of magic pulsed into their body. They knit the bone, tissue, and nerve. Feeling flooded back into Daiwen with an explosion of white hot pain.

The pain lanced up their skull straight into their brain. Daiwen screamed. Their entire body went rigid, fingers spasming helplessly in the guardian’s grip. The water continued to crush and knead their wracking body.

“You have to stop fighting it!” the spirit shouted back at them.

“I can’t! It’s too much!”

“I can heal the rest all at once, but you need to let the water inside you.”

“Do it!”

“Take a deep breath.”

Daiwen strained to fill their lungs against the crushing grip of the water walls. The guardian sang with a roar:

“Dreams were made and used and wasted  
No ransom to be paid, no song untasted.”

The bubble around Daiwen’s head popped. Thick jets of water surged down their nose and mouth, burning and pounding. Thicker jets surged up their ass and vagina.

Daiwen, crushed and impaled from every direction, thrashed senselessly and screamed out their final breath. The walls squeezed until they could barely squirm. They continued to knead their flesh, their penetrated holes, and cunt.

The guardian’s song dropped to a whisper and rose to thunder through the water:

“But the whispers come at night  
Tearing your hopes and dreams to shame.”

A second explosion lanced up from the base of Daiwen’s spine to the base of their brain. Sheer, blinding pleasure. It was too much. 

Daiwen’s entire body clenched and convulsed around the jets between the crushing walls. Waves of magic and ecstasy flooded from their curled toes to their burning lungs.

The white stars in their eyes faded into utter darkness. Their senseless pleasure, into oblivion.


	20. A House Like the Sea

Chapter 20: A House Like the Sea (侯門似海)

Water. Daiwen woke, and it was everywhere. They floated in it, still naked, but a new air bubble protected their head. A second air bubble protected none other than their punching doll, drifting beside them. The punching doll drifted right into a wooden wall and bounced off. Music and song floated back through the water with them.

“Mastrix of the house  
Everybody's boon companion  
Everybody's chaperone  
But Qi Zhong! Won't they skin you to the bone!”

The bubbles popped. Daiwen clawed and kicked uselessly at the water. They looked around wildly. They couldn’t swim, but their doll floated. 

Daiwen wrapped their arms and legs around the doll as though they were the backpack. The doll rolled Daiwen onto their stomach but took them up. They broke the surface of the water coughing and sputtering.

Daiwen grabbed onto the wooden rim of the tub and dragged themself through the sticky, nostril-burning liquid. It had somehow changed on the way up from water to rice wine. Daiwen dropped the doll over the side. It immediately hit wooden floorboards.

Daiwen pulled themself upright. Their knees scraped the bottom of the wooden tub. They stood up, looking straight at a black curtain. Music continued to blast from the other side.

“Residents are more than welcome  
Bridal suite is occupied  
Reasonable expenses  
With a little extras on the side!”

The curtain opened.

“Oh…”

The music died. A scattered crowd of patrons in a sea of small, round tables had a clear view of Daiwen, naked and dripping, in front of the central prop. To one side of the stage, a youth in nothing but an apron leaned on the back of a chair. Behind them, a fish-headed humanoid covered in fins and scales reamed them with a strap-on dildo.

On the other side of a stage, a giant squid with a porcelain, mask-like face where their beak should’ve been held an entire band’s worth of instruments in their tentacles. A second humanoid, this one wearing nothing but an apron, tapped their suction-cupped foot and spun on four of their octopus-tentacle legs, the other four flying up with their writhing black hair.

“Mastrix of the house!  
Mastrix and a half!”

The giant squid put a thick bamboo flute to their porcelain lips and continued to play. The fish resumed rhythmically banging the youth, who lifted and kicked a long, pale leg with the music.

“Servant to the poor,  
Butler to the great!”

One octopus tentacle wrapped around Daiwen’s wrist. It spun them off to the side with the youth and the fish. The youth hooked Daiwen’s waist with their leg and pulled them in close. The youth winked and pulled off their apron by the neck band, baring their erection to the audience between the bars of the chair. They dropped the band over Daiwen’s head with a whisper.

“Smile.”

Daiwen looked back at the crowd with the largest, toothiest smile they could manage. They nodded their head in time with the music and did their best to ignore the rhythmic bump from the youth holding them with their leg.

The octopus-legged dancer spun from the tub of rice wine to their side of the stage with a full tray of cups balanced on their arm, singing:

“Everybody bless the mastrix!  
Everybody bless their house!”

Four tentacles grabbed the cups off the tray, passing three to the fish, the youth, and Daiwen. The dancer flung the round tray across the stage. The squid caught it on top of a two-stringed fiddle. They continued to spin it round as they put the bow to the strings. Performers and patrons, all but Daiwen, sang:

“Everybody raise a glass  
Raise it up the mastrix's arse  
Raise a glass to the Mastrix of the House!”

Everyone, including Daiwen, raised their glasses. Clink. The youth passed their drink to the fish. The fish pulled the dildo from the strap-on but left it in the youth’s ass. It was hollow. The fish dumped the drink through the hole and plunged it into the youth.

Everyone whooped and knocked back their drinks. All but Daiwen shattered the glass against the ground. The youth gave Daiwen an encouraging nod as cum pumped from their dick down one black bar of the chair.

Daiwen smashed their glass onto the stage. The music roared to a close. The crowd leaped to their feet, whooping and cheering. 

The squid raised their instruments over their head/body. The fish pulled out of the youth. They snagged the chair with their finned, scaled foot and pushed it to the side. The fish, youth, Daiwen, and the octopus-legged dancer held hands. The youth and the dancer squeezed Daiwen’s hands so they all bowed together.

The crowd went wild. The black curtain closed behind the performers. A large, heavy-set human with deep olive skin and their black hair in netted bun walked out onto the stage in a shimmery, dark blue dress. They raised one hand.

The crowd fell silent. They returned to their seats. The human smiled.

“Thank you all so much for coming out tonight!”

The crowd whooped and cheered. As they waited for another lull, the human snapped their fingers behind their back. The glass shards at Daiwen’s feet floated back into their original, separate glasses.

“Thank you, thank you. If you liked what you saw, remember to tell your friends--Yunming Cabaret (雲明卡巴萊), new shows every night!”

There were scattered but enthusiastic whoops around the room.

“Thank you. Though tonight’s show has ended, the bar stays open until six in the morning. So please, make yourselves at home. And stay naughty,” they winked.

Curtains of shimmering black silk closed over the whole stage. The dancer pulled Daiwen’s doll out from the center of their tentacles, giving the backpack a skeptical glare. The human mastrix of Yunming Cabaret turned straight toward Daiwen with a cheek-puffed frown of concern. 

“Come with me.”

The mastrix led Daiwen to a small lounge behind the stage, its back windows open over a gravel coastline. Daiwen ran past the sofas and buffet table to the window. They grasped the edge to lean as far out as they could.

The sea. The black waves stretched as far as the eye could see, melding into the starry night sky. The tide lapped against the gravel, glowing with unknown life. A salt breeze gusted into Daiwen’s face. They snorted and turned back toward the room.

They’d completely exposed their spirit-healed backside to the mastrix, the dancer, the fish, and the youth. Daiwen winced and pressed their backside flat against the windowsill. A suction-cupped tentacle tapped their shoulder.

“So sorry, that’s my seat. Do you mind?” asked the giant squid, their masked face filling the window.

“Oh, sorry!” 

Daiwen hopped down at once and edged toward a safe, unoccupied corner, but the naked youth shook their head and offered Daiwen a hand. They grasped it uncertainly. The youth led them to a seat at the sofa between them and the fish. The mastrix and the dancer took the other sofa with the squid at the window between them.

The mastrix introduced themself as Mastrix Guang, owner and manager of the cabaret. The octopus-legged dancer, Ganteng (干疼), she/her, and the fish, Zhenping (珍平), they/them, were immigrants from Xidao (隙道), the underwater nation off Tian-Xia’s northeastern coast. The youth, Caolan (漕藍), was Mastrix Guang’s son.

“And I’m a mermaid,” said Rubi (濡幣) from the window.

Zhenping nodded enthusiastically, but Ganteng shook her head. Mastrix Guang and their son exchanged a barely contained smile.

The water gate had brought Daiwen to the south of Other Shenmen, to the fishing town of Bingchi (病斥). Daiwen explained their search for the gates to take them home with a short-and-sweetness that came only from having told the exact same tale multiple times. Mastrix Guang nodded thoughtfully at the talk of spirit gates.

“Maybe that’s what happened to our priest.”

Priest Ku Houran (枯后苒) had vanished without a trace not ten days ago. A new priest had only just taken the local church under their wing. Neither the cabaret workers nor any of their clientele had met the new priest yet.

“Thank you for all your help,” said Daiwen. “I’ll start witht he new priest first thing in the morning. Tonight...would anyone mind if I borrowed some clothes? Or, I have money--”

“You already have clothes,” said Ganteng, pulling Daiwen’s spider silk out from the mouth of the doll.

That was impossible. The clothes had been on the floor outside of the doll in Director Cai’s office. The doll had followed Daiwen through the gate once more, but no one had put the clothes inside. Unless the director--improbable. It was improbable, but completely welcome.

Daiwen accepted the dool back from Ganteng and hugged it to their chest. They thanked the cabaret workers once more and laid their borrowed apron on the tea table.

“Wait, why don’t you stay here with us while you’re investigating our priest?” said Caolan.

“Yeah, new blood!” said Zhenping, throwing up their scaly arms.

“The rooms are for talent only,” said Ganteng flatly.

“Awww,” Zhenping dropped their arms.

“Well, hold on now,” drawled Mastrix Guang. “A novelty might bring in more customers--gods know we could use it during fishing season.”

“What’s your talent?” asked Rubi. “I play five to ten instruments.”

“That’s right,” said Ganteng. “We do song and erotic dance here.”

“I...performed with a sex circus--the greatest show in Shenmen?”

Mastrix Guang let out a low whistle. Zhenping put their arms back up and bowed up and down.

“Respect. Respect,” they chanted.

“You’ve got a place if you want it,” said Mastrix Guang.

“I’ll take it, but the investigation comes first. Any night I can’t perform, I’ll let you know in the morning and just pay you for the room. Is that alright?”

Mastrix Guang stuck out their hand.

“We have a deal.”

\--/--

After Daiwen and the others dressed, Caolan brought Daiwen upstairs to their room. It was a small, narrow space with a narrow futon, but it was clean. More importantly, the room’s one, narrow window opened over the Gui Sea (鬼海).

“Hey…” 

Cao leaned against the side of the open doorway, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.

“I know you must be pretty tired, but if you wanted to see the sea up close, I could take you. It’s not safe to go alone.”

“I would love that.”

Caolan led them down a salt-crusted staircase off the back of the cabaret to the gravel shore. Daiwen tossed their silk boots onto the wooden rail and ran to the glowing tide pools. Their sheer excitement numbed the prick and jab of the gravel.

Daiwen leaped into the nearest pool, freezing water splashing up their bare legs and sheath. They shivered and squealed, waving Caolan over. He whooped and jumped in beside them. The tide rolled in next, knocking both down on their butts. They only laughed and spat out the salt between their chattering teeth.

They had to leave the tidepool to dry. They walked along the gravel shore, the edge of the tide weakly but insistently tugging their feet toward the sea.

“Where did you say you were from?” asked Caolan.

“Nowhere. A little village on the edge of the forest.”

“I’ve never seen the forest.”

“I’ve never seen the sea.”

“I could tell,” he laughed.

Daiwen playfully bumped his shoulder with theirs. He grunted and fell with an exaggerated, stone-spraying slide, into the gravel. Daiwen stifled a giggle and rolled their eyes, but the sky thundered as though in applause. The nightly rain, the same over all of Shenmen, fell in torrents all at once.

Daiwen pulled Caolan up to his feet. They ran back to the cabaret, shrieking like cats at the cold.


	21. Ask Me No More Questions, I'll Tell You No More Lies

Chapter 21: Ask Me No More Questions, I’ll Tell You No More Lies (不問就听不到假話)

Daiwen left at dawn with the last and most drunken cabaret patrons, so they’d have plenty of time to investigate Bingchi Town’s new priest before rehearsals. It was pouring outside, but Daiwen simply threw on their hood and quickened their pace. Despite being on the other end of town, the local temple was only a forty-minute walk away.

The temple stood at the top of a hill that dropped away to a sheer cliff over the sea. Its long, yellow-green grasses churned with the waves below in the wind and rain. Daiwen ran up the wood and earth steps between the grass through the temple’s open, outer gate.

They took off their silk boots at the stout red doors of the inner gate. The wheel of Qi Zhong had been carved over the doorway. It was so old that two of the wheel’s spokes had weathered away. The doors opened with a soft creak.

The warm air, heavy with incense immediately clung to Daiwen’s soaked clothes and skin. An idol blackened with incense sat in the shrine carved into the back wall. Gilded waves climbed the pillars on either side of the idol. At their feet was an altar laden with food offerings and clustered sticks of burning incense.

Padded footsteps sounded from a doorway to the west. A heavyset, earth-skinned priest in simple blue robes walked up a flight of stairs to the temple with a bucket in one hand and a mop in the other. They offered Daiwen a bow and a smile.

“Good morning! If you’ve come to see Priest Ku, I’m afraid we don’t know where they’ve gone. I’m Priestess Yong (邕), and I’m more than happy to help you.”

They set the bucket and mop down against the wall.

“I’m Daiwen, and I’m actually here to help look for Priest Ku. Would it be alright to ask you some questions?”

“Oh, maybe this isn’t the best place to talk. Would you mind coming with me?”

Priestess Yong mopped up a puddle of leak from one of the walkway roofs in the courtyard, water plinking into the metal bucket over the softening patter of rain. Unfortunately, she had little to add to what the cabaret workers had already said. Priest Ku, her friend and mentor, had simply vanished without a trace. They had no family, no enemies--their entire life had been dedicated to the church.

Daiwen leaned back against a wooden post of the walkway, folding their arms in thought. It was possible that Priest Ku had died. In fact, that would be the best case scenario in terms of finding them. If they’d given their life to the church, then Daiwen could reach their spirit here.

“Can I see their room?”

“I’m very sorry, but the lower level of the temple is off-limits to the public.”

“It would help the investigation.”

“I’m very sorry.”

“Don’t you...want to find Priest Ku?”

Priestess Yong smashed her mop against the stone tile, filthy water squelching back out.

“Of course I do! But you must be,” she raised her hand to head level, “this holy before you can enter the lower level--”

“Holy or not--”

“No, no-no. You are like this,” she pinched the air between her thumb and first finger. “Maybe this.”

“Ok, I get it, but--”

“You obviously don’t! Please, just leave.”

Daiwen pried themself off the walkway without further argument. They held both hands up beside their head for the priestess and walked out easy into the drizzle. There was only person taking care of the temple right now. It’d be easy to sneak back in.

\--/--

Zhenping the fish humanoid, wearing a cape on their shoulders and half a mask plastered to their fish-shaped head, pointed their riding crop at Daiwen.

“Sing for me!”

Daiwen tried. The sound was half coughing.

“Sing my angel of music!”

Their voice cracked. Ganteng threw up her hands, hair, and four tentacles in exasperation.

“Stop! Just stop!”

Daiwen stopped. Caolan gave them a tiny smile even as he rubbed the back of his own ears. Rubi wiggled her wagon-sized head/body. The wiggle travelled all the way down to the tips of her instrument-wield tentacles.

“Alright!” she said, “I’m ready to start from the top.”

“No, no one’s starting anything because,” Ganteng jabbed a finger at Daiwen, “you can’t fucking sing, can you? Can you even dance?”

Daiwen gave their shoulders a little shimmy. This only resulted in more swearing.

“Ok, I’m calling ten,” said Caolan. “Let’s everybody just cool down until someone comes up with an idea--”

Zhenping’s hand shot into the air.

“Idea!”

“Sure. Whatcha got?”

“Bondage! Can’t sing? Gag’em! Can’t dance? Cuff’em!”

“That...could work. Daiwen?”

“That’s fine. I did that a lot at the sex circus.”

“Where you also sang and danced?” said Ganteng, hands on her octopus-skinned hips, hair lashing around her head like the flames of a black sun.

“I never said I did--”

“You lied to us.”

Ganteng spun on her suction-cupped feet and stormed offstage. Caolan shot Daiwen an apologetic cringe and jogged after her. Rubi and Zhenping’s wide, bulbous-eyed expressions were unreadable.

“I guess I kinda did lie.”

“Mmm, yep,” they agreed.

“I’m sorry. I’ll just go--”

Zhenping waved their finned arms across their scaly body. Rubi similarly but more frightfully waved her tentacles, all of her incredibly expensive instruments grunting in protest. Daiwen would’ve stopped just to save the music.

“Ok, ok! I’ll stay.”

“Good. Me too,” said Rubi.

“Thanks, Daiwen. And Rubi. We could really use something to reel in a crowd and bondage is so hot right now.”

Zhenping smacked their own thigh with the riding crop in what Daiwen had to assume was emphasis. Bondage it was.

\--/--

The black curtains opened to Daiwen dressed in rags under the spotlight. They stopped sweeping to lean on their broom. They sang out over the audience in a simple, almost spoken tune:

“There is a castle on a cloud  
I like to go there in my sleep  
Aren't any floors for me to sweep  
Not in my castle on a cloud.”

The final note faded. The second set of curtains opened up behind Daiwen. Rubi, the one-squid orchestra with sleeveless gloves on every tentacle, picked up a much more bombastic tune from the side of the stage. Zhenping strode out through the curtains in a red silk corset, a black strap-on, and matching heels, jauntily swinging their riding crop and singing:

“They met Guojiang Nu (果酱女) down in old Bingchi Town   
Struttin her stuff on the street  
She said, "Hello, kiddo, you wanna give it a go?" 

“Oh! Uh-huh,” said Daiwen.

Zhenping grabbed the front of their rag dress and ripped it off their body. They set the end of the riding crop against Daiwen’s chest, grazing the soft underside of their exposed breasts. They walked a slow circle around Daiwen to the woots and whistles of the growing audience as they sang: 

“Mochi, mochi, ya-ya dada  
Mochi, mochi, ya-ya here  
Mochi kochi chichi kan-a (吃吃看啊)  
Real lady Guojiang Nu!”

A fleshy smack rang out as Zhenping danced and snapped the crop against Daiwen’s ass. Daiwen swallowed their yelp. Magically amplified voices behind the curtain sang:

“Jin wanshang, xiang-xiang gen wo tongfang, haoba   
Jin wanshang, xiang-xiang gen wo tongfang.”  
(今晚上, 想想跟我同房, 好吧  
今晚上, 想想跟我一起性交)

Zhenping reached through their crotch harness into their own cloaca and pulled out a ring gag by the ring. They strapped the ring into Daiwen’s mouth, exposing their tongue like a panting dog’s. They gave Daiwen’s ass a loud, final smack, laughing into their hand at Daiwen’s grunted squeak, before sashaying behind the curtain.

Caolan, dressed in a top hat and thigh-highs over a glittering bikini, strutted out with the legs of a stool in hand. He set it front and center, revealing an arm-length dildo attached to the seat. Daiwen clutched their hands in front of their chest with a whimper, but Caolan pulled their wrists away, singing and swinging his hips:

“They sat in her room while she lit it up  
Drank all her sorghum wine  
Her black silk sheets is where they started to freak, yeah.”

Caolan snapped two cuffed braces on Daiwen’s arms and spun them around, exposing their ass to the howling crowd. He hooked the braces tight across Daiwen’s back, completely restraining their arms. He turned their flushing face back to the audience, rubbing oil between their legs as he sang: 

“Mochi, mochi, ya-ya dada  
Mochi, mochi, ya-ya here  
Mochi kochi chichi kan-a  
Real lady Guojiang Nu.”

Caolan groped Daiwen’s red-smacked ass, spreading their cheeks. He dragged them back by the ass over the stool. With a merciless wink, he screwed their anus down over the dildo, sing-shouting with the others over Daiwen’s scream:

“Jin wanshang, xiang-xiang gen wo tongfang, haoba   
Jin wanshang, xiang-xiang gen wo tongfang.” 

He wrapped his arms under Daiwen’s breasts, crushing Daiwen to his chest and the air from their lungs. He dragged them up and down the dildo.

All the strength drained from Daiwen’s trembling legs. With the gag stretching their mouth as wide as the dildo stretched their anus, every grunt and moan rang out over the rapt crowd. Caolan’s iron hold on their chest crushed their cumming scream to a nasal squeal. Drool ran from their useless mouth in a sticky channel between their breasts. It joined the slick on their legs, shiny in the spotlight, and splattered onto the stage.

Caolan left them--dripping, splayed, and impaled on the dildo--with a teasing kiss on the nose. Ganteng whirled and danced out past him in a white bikini top, fanning herself with a matching feather duster.

“Yeah yeah  
They come through with the coins on strings  
I let ‘em know we eat that cake straight up the gate  
Independent women, some mistake us for war  
Wo kan, why spend mine when I can spend yours?” (我看)

Ganteng squatted down on all eight legs beside Daiwen’s reddened cunt. Three legs grabbed each leg of the stool, holding it down. A fourth leg tickled Daiwen’s twitching clit with the duster.

The splinter-fine barbs jolted Daiwen from clit to spine. They jumped and kicked on the stool, sobbing helpless laughter. They only impaled themself deeper on the dildo up their ass. Their shaft clenched. Daiwen screamed, their rigid body wracking under Ganteng’s feathered barbs.

Ganteng dropped the duster and swayed up to her full height. Daiwen slumped on their impaling dildo with a relieved spasm. Their head lolled back over their shoulders.

Ganteng continued to sing. As she did, Zhenping and Caolan danced out from behind the curtain to join her in a half-circle behind the defeated Daiwen.

“Hey sistas, soul sistas, betta get that dough sistas  
We drink jiu with zhuanshi in the beizi” (酒, 鑽石, 杯子)

Zhenping on one side and Caolan on the other eased Daiwen off the stool. Ganteng swung around in front of Daiwen, grabbing the edges of the stool’s seat in four tentacles. She swayed her own cloaca down over the dildo with a fierce grunt. The audience roared their approval. Ganteng, sweating, sang:

“If you wanna mochi, mochi, ya ya  
Mochi kochi--a what?  
Real lady Guojiang Nu  
One more time c’mon now.”

Caolan and Zhenping sang. As they did, Rubi lowered her instruments one by one, leaving their voices with only a pounding drum:

“Guojiang Nu,  
Lady Guojiang Nu,  
Guojiang Nu.”

Rubi flung off her sleeveless gloves and slid out to centerstage, her red-painted face looming over all four.

“Hey, hey, hey  
Touch of her skin feeling silky smooth  
Color of kafei natie alright (咖啡拿鐵)  
Made the beast inside roar til they cried.”

Rubi coiled one rubbery tentacle thicker than a thigh around each performer. She hoisted them up in the air as they sang:

“More, more, more!”

The stool dildo squeezed out from Ganteng with a squelch and clattered to the floor. Rubi swept it aside. Four more tentacles snaked up under the performers. Daiwen whimpered as a thick, suction-cupped tip grazed their swollen lips. Rubi continued to belt it out:

“Now they’re back home on that 9 to 5  
Living the itchy tarp life  
But when they fall to sleep memories creep.”

Zhenping, Caolan, and Ganteng, quivering with excitement, shouted and the audience shouted with them:

“More, more, more!”

The tentacles entered. The tip was so large that it curled in on itself as it pushed into Daiwen, making it even more solid. The width tore their walls apart, but even as it stretched them raw, the suctioning cups yanked Daiwen’s walls in against the heavy phallus.

Daiwen’s back arched in Rubi’s coiled grasp. They screamed as the suctioning cups forced their shaft into convulsions. They bucked and thrashed, but the tentacle only pushed deeper, suctioning the helpless lips of their inner mouth.

Orgasm after orgasm wracked Daiwen into senseless darkness. The voices at the fleeting edge of their consciousness sang them into oblivion:

“Mochi, mochi, ya ya dada  
Mochi, mochi, ya ya here  
Mochi kochi chichi kan ya   
Real lady Guojiang Nu  
Jin wanshang, xiang-xiang gen wo tongfang, haoba  
Jin wanshang, xiang-xiang gen wo tongfang  
Jin wanshang, xiang-xiang gen wo tongfang, haoba  
Jin wanshang, xiang-xiang gen wo tongfang.”


	22. Rise with the Tide

Chapter 22: Rise with the Tide (水涨船高)

Daiwen woke to the distant, midnight toll of Bingchi Town’s great iron bell. They were lying on their futon, naked but clean. They rolled off to the side and pulled their clothes out of the backpack under the open window. Perfect--plenty of time to sneak into the temple.

They opened the door and snuck as quietly as they could down the cabaret stairs. They realized their mistake halfway down the creaking wood. They should’ve taken the outdoor stairs.

It was too late. Ganteng popped her head out from the lounge, her writhing locks holding the doorway on either side of her stony face. She jabbed a finger at Daiwen.

“You,” she jabbed it at herself, “me, backstage. Now.”

Daiwen took a deep breath, filling with excuses. But under Ganteng’s steely glare, guilt rose up hard and sharp in their gut. Daiwen deflated with a sigh and went backstage with the professional erotic performer.

The cabaret’s full house rumbled low as the pull of ocean waves on the other side of the two curtains--a magical effect. Ganteng pulled a bamboo bottle of bright green tea out from their tentacles and pushed it into Daiwen’s hands. It was warm.

“Thank--”

“Don’t drink it all. We’re working on your voice.”

Fuck.

Ganteng kept Daiwen backstage for three hours practicing Daiwen’s breathing, phrasing, and matching pitch. Daiwen did their best, but their mind was on the break-in. Ganteng dropped her head in her hands.

“Gimme the bottle.”

Daiwen passed it to Ganteng’s waiting tentacle. Ganteng hurled it at the curtain. It hit with a fabric thunk, rolling and clattering to the floor. On the bright side, there was nothing to clean because they’d spent the last three fucking hours sipping to stay sane.

Daiwen walked off to pick up the bottle, taking their sweet time. Ganteng smoothed their writhing locks back with two tentacles. The raised their head with a deep inhale.

“Ok, ok. We’re cool. Gimme the verse again.”

“I thought you said you’d rather stick your whole body up Rubi’s cloaca like a giant butt plug and have her give you a full-body fart than listen to--”

“I know what I said! Qi Zhong’s balls! Gimme the goddamned verse.”

Ganteng thought she had it bad. Daiwen had just lost their very last fuck to give. Instead of singing, they growled out the verse, fast and unmistakably spoken:

“I might just chill with your screw  
I might just feel on your babe  
My pussy feel like a lake  
They wanna swim with their face.”

Daiwen slowed down without dropping the heat, jabbing their own finger right in Ganteng’s wide-eyed face.

“Said little bitch, you can't fuck with me  
If you wanted to  
These expensive, these're red bottoms  
These're bloody shoes.”

Daiwen let the bottle drop. It clattered sharp and hollow on the hardwood. 

Ganteng grabbed their shoulders with a hand and tentacle each. Daiwen shut their eyes.

“You’re timing! You got it! Not the singing--your voice has the range of a dead fish--but you can hit the beat. Daiwen, we’re not screwed! We can just have you rap!” 

“You mean...I can go now?”

One tentacle tossed the bottle up from the floor. Ganteng caught it in her lashing hair. For the first time since they’d met her, she smiled offstage. Technically backstage, but Daiwen was gonna count it.

“Daiwen,” she gave their shoulders a hearty pat, “get the fuck outta here.”

Daiwen went straight from the cabaret to the temple. Just like temples back home, its doors remained unlocked even in the morning dark. The inner, creaky red doors were closed, but they’d come prepared. Daiwen rubbed the some of same oil that Caolan had rubbed on them during the show onto the wood and hinges. The doors opened like a dream.

Daiwen crept past the shrine through the doorway at the side. They went slowly down the stairs, pressing themself against the wall to keep off any creaky spots in the wood. The air grew colder and more humid but no less incense-y with every step.

The stairs led to a long, narrow stone hallway lined with simple wooden doors. The door at the far end, however, reached nearly to the ceiling. Faded blue paint peeled from its boards. Daiwen rubbed their oil over the door and pushed it open.

A round stone chamber wrapped around a second shrine in the far wall. The entire wall had been carved with krakens, octopuses,  
squid, and other sea creatures. A small stone idol of an unknown god stood at the center of the stone sea.

A round pool of dark water surrounded the simple stone altar at its feet. Three bodies slumped against the altar like offerings. Each of them was missing its head.

Daiwen clenched their chattering teeth and curled their sweating palms to fists. Their aura flared purple. They reached out to the spirits of the death.

A ripple of spread to the edges of the pool. Daiwen crouched by the dark water. The victims could’ve died by drowning. They lowered two fingers into the pool.

A solid blue eye the size of a fist rose from the center of the pool. A mass of purple-red flesh followed, squeezing out from the pool and into the chamber. The creature’s giant, octopus head/body crushed the bodies. Eight tentacles joined by red webbing squeezed out from the pool under it. Thick, razor-sharp hooks flashed from the underside of the tentacles.

This...was not a spirit. Daiwen ran for the door. 

Cruel hooks latched into their calves. Daiwen slammed face-first to the floor. The creature dragged them to the pool.

Daiwen screamed and clawed at the stone. Their nails scraped across the floor.

The creature hoisted Daiwen up into the air. Its webbed tentacles unfurled like a flower over a hooked-lined beak the size of a horse’s head.

“Dagou (大狗)! No!”

Priestess Yong stood in the doorway. She held up the holy symbol of an unknown god, glyphs like a cog within a cog, rather than Qi Zhong’s wheel.

The creature’s beak opened over Daiwen’s dangling feet. Dagou whined.

“Bad Dagou! Bad!”

The tentacles and all the webbing shook. Dagou rolled Daiwen off onto the floor. Then sobbed.

“No, you’re hungry because you haven’t touched your dinner for days,” the priestess reprimanded as she helped Daiwen up to their own shaking feet. “Goodnight, Dagou.”

The creature’s snivels cut off with a disgruntled snort. Their rubbery flesh squeezed and shlumped back under the water with a loud, final bloop.

Priestess Yong took Daiwen back to her room, which used to be Priest Ku’s room. She answered all of their questions as she sent healing magic through Daiwen’s torn calves. Priest Ku hadn’t disappeared but neither had they died.

“But I should start with our god.”

“You’re a cult--”

“No! No! Bingchi was chosen. We’re under the protection of Dagong (逹工), a patron deity. It’s just...nobody in town knows because--”

“You’re a cultist.”

“Yeah.”

“Did you kill those people?”

“No, Dagou gets dead meat only...that didn’t come out--anyway.”

Dagong protected Bingchi Town and all of Shenmen from the Deep Dwellers, the creatures that lived in the deep sea trenches as well as the sea caves below the town. Priest Ku was Dagong’s most devout servant. When they learned that the Deep Dwellers had obtained a holy relic of Dagong, the stone idol, they went below the caves to arrange a deal.

“Their life for the idol?”

“Pretty much. The Deep Dwellers do...human experimentation.”

“How do I get to the caves?”

“Daiwen...you can’t go them without something to trade.”

The Deep Dwellers liked experimentation, did they?

“The bodies.”

“What?”

“The bodies Dagou isn’t eating. You don’t need them. Leave them by the entrance to the sea caves for me tonight, I mean--”

Priestess Yong held up her palm. Not right now, the next real night--she got it.

\--/--

The skies lightened from black to dark, velvety blue as Daiwen tromped back to the cabaret. At least it wasn’t raining. They went up the back stairs to keep from waking drunks and performers alike, but their door squeaked open. A tall figure stood over their empty futon. 

Daiwen clapped a hand over their scream. It was only Caolan. He gave them a sheepish grin.

“Sorry, Ganteng told me you’d gone out in the middle of the night. You’re new here, so I got kinda worried and thought I’d wait for you to come back.”

“No worries. I was just…”

Caolan was a helpful sort. They didn’t want him to try helping them and accidentally discover the morbid deal they’d struck with the priestess.

“I wanted to watch the waves from that cliff by the temple.”

“You really love the sea, huh?”

“Yeah, can’t get enough that ocean.”

Caolan snapped his fingers.

“Have you ever heard of a tidal fuck?”

“No…”

“I can show you if you want. It sounds like you might really enjoy it.”

That was sure how it sounded, damn helpful Caolan.

“Great! Do mind if I grab this?” he picked up their punching doll backpack. “We’re gonna need to bring a safety line and a knife, just in case.”

“Great!”

\--/--

Caolan double-checked the reach of the tide under the lightening, blue velvet sky. Daiwen removed their clothes and stuffed them into the backpack, which they’d already secured to a large rocky outcropping by a line of rope. Caolan measured out lines for Daiwen and himself and tied them around their naked waists.

He sat down in the gravel below the rocks and patted the place beside him. Daiwen sat, resting their chin on their knees. Caolan laid a hand on their shoulder.

“Hey, are you ok? If this isn’t ok--”

A wave crashed against the shore just below Daiwen’s toes. The wave roared up into their legs, knocking them down. The water rolled over Daiwen’s cunt. When the tide pulled back, the sea itself sucked on their clit. 

Daiwen gasped in the fleeting surf. Their hand found Caolan’s, fingers lacing. They stayed down against the gravel.

“Please, show me.”

Caolan gripped their shoulders and laid between their legs. The tide returned before he was ready. The wave knocked him against Daiwen, his stiffening cock rubbing against both holes as it pushed him down. The ocean sucked both of them. It left Caolan fully erect.

He pressed his dick against their wetted lips. The next wave shoved him into Daiwen with the full force of the crash. Daiwen grunted into the surf. It forced their fully body down into the gravel as Caolan continued to pound them. He only drew back with the tide for the suck.

Caolan set his head against Daiwen’s puckered anus.

“Ready to go again?”

He tidal fucked them from hole to hole until finally cumming in Daiwen’s ass. The sea sucked his cum from Daiwen’s hole until he placed one hand over their winking anus. He placed the other hand over their mouth of their cunt.

“Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck,” Daiwen muttered, clit twitching in anticipation.

“If you want me to stop, speak now or--”

“Don’t stop!”

The wave crashed. Caolan’s hands plunged to the base of Daiwen’s holes. Their overstuffed shafts convulsed down on his arms. Daiwen bucked and writhed in their gravel rut, screaming their orgasm under the waves of the ocean fucking them.

Caolan was as merciless as the sea itself. He stayed inside Daiwen as the tide sucked them off, their walls spasming uncontrollably around his arms. He remained in them for the next wave and the next.

By the time he pulled out, the tidal fuck had sapped all of Daiwen’s strength and left them a weak, quivering heap. Caolan scooped them up in his arms and carried them back to the rocky outcropping. He propped Daiwen up against the rock and sat between them and the doll, blocking its lidless button eyes. 

Daiwen suddenly, superstitiously regretted not turning the doll to face in some other direction. Caolan, oblivious to the superstition, rested his head on their shoulder, eyes on the pink fingers of dawn on the horizon.

“Hey Daiwen?”

“Yeah?”

“You saw the new priest today, er, yesterday, right?”

“Yeah.”

“What did they tell you?”

Daiwen told them everything but the deal, using up the last of their mental strength to keep from spilling it.

“Oh. I see.”

Caolan raised his head off their shoulder. He turned away from the sunrise to the backpack. He turned back so fast Daiwen couldn’t remember when he’d straddled them. Or when he’d plunged the knife between their ribs.


	23. In the Same Boat

Chapter 23: In the Same Boat (同舟共濟)

Daiwen grunted blood. They grabbed at Caolan’s wrist and screamed for help. Their limp fingers couldn’t push back the blade. Blood choked their throat. Daiwen wheezed and sputtered for breath.

Caolan twisted the blade. Daiwen let go of his wrist, slapping at his neck and expressionless face. Red puddled in the gravel rut under them.

Daiwen’s nails dug into his skin. Daiwen spit blood in his eyes. He didn’t even blink.

Daiwen went completely numb. Their hands fell like dead birds to the gravel. They were going to die here.

The first drops of the morning rain dropped on their purpling face. Black swam at the edges of their vision. Their whole body burned as their lungs strained for air. A patchwork of colors flickered over their murderer’s head.

Two handless arms clamped over Caolan’s nose. Two footless legs shoved into his mouth.

Caolan let go of the knife, clawing at the punching doll’s hold on his face. Its padded tarp muffled his shrieks. He fell to the gravel beside Daiwen, ripping through the fabric with a sharp stone.

The doll remained in place. It fit more of its loosened stuffing deeper into his air holes, completely absorbing his sound.

Caolan’s useless ripping weakened to scratching, then to a wet, limp-fingered slide.

Daiwen held the knife in their side as a blood plug and crawled to their feet. Their red puddle rippled under the plinking rain. Caolan laid still.

“Don’t kill him,” they croaked at the doll.

Hopefully, it understood, or else Caolan wouldn’t be around for questions when they got back. If it didn’t, the miracle that it was ‘alive’ at all was enough for Daiwen to excuse this one murder.

By the time Daiwen staggered within sight of the cabaret, the rain was falling in full force, drowning out their cries for help. Their feet slipped on the slick gravel. Daiwen fell on their ass. The knife jostled in their side. They cried out in unheard pain and crawled to the door.

Daiwen slammed their palm against the wood and groaned. Red spurted around the knife with every knock.

Zhenping opened the door. They screamed, fins flaring around their head. All faded to black.

\--/--

Rain pelted glass as though desperate to be let in. Daiwen woke on their futon, the weight of a hand on their ribs. A cool wave of magic eased all their pains to the dullest aches.

Priestess Yong kneeled on the floor beside them holding a holy symbol so obscured by garish paint that no one would’ve guessed its true god. The elemental rings, however, falsely suggested Qi Zhong. The priestess jumped at Daiwen’s open eyes, clutching the wooden pendant to her chest.

“Good god, that was fast.”

“That’s the first time I’ve gotten that complaint.”

Priestess Yong rolled her eyes even as she gave them a grudging smile.

“We healers just love a patient with a mouth. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Thanks, you really saved my butt.”

“Twice in one night! Day? Whatever. Speaking of…,” she dropped her voice to a hush, “You weren’t talking about the Deep Dwellers before you got attacked, were you?”

“Oh. They have allies in town.”

“Worse.”

When Dagong’s most devout servant vanished, Bingchi’s defense against the Deep Dwellers vanished. Priestess Yong had expected but had only just now proven the Deep Dwellers had been able to brainwash some of the townsfolk to do their bidding without the folk’s consent or even knowledge.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you--I wasn’t sure if you were one of them or not.”

That would’ve been good to know, but Daiwen couldn’t blame the priestess for not wanting to get murdered after nearly getting murdered themself. They simply nodded and sat up, getting their bearings.

A pair of black button eyes met theirs under the windowsill. The doll sat in colorful shreds, practically spewing its contents onto the floor. It gave no sign of its previous life, which only made Daiwen uneasier. They’d reach down its torn gullet for the sewing kit later.

Priestess Yong helped Daiwen up to their feet. She leaned in toward their ear as she passed them a simple, threadbare shift to wear.

“You still want the...‘stuff’ tonight?”

“Yeah.”

No! Daiwen didn’t want to risk their life so soon after nearly losing it, but there was no way they could sleep with potentially an entire town brainwashed to kill them once they found out what Daiwen knew. 

In that light, they were extremely lucky to have been Priestess Yong’s test subject--it put them one step ahead of the Deep Dwellers. Against that kind of power, they’d take all the help they could get.

Daiwen went down with Priestess Yong to the back door. Mastrix Guang, Ganteng, and Zhenping poked their heads out from the green room, one on top of the other. Rubi poked out a suction-cupped tentacle under Zhenping. Daiwen closed the door.

They sat on the sofa across from Mastrix Guang, Ganteng, and Zhenping with a sinking feeling in their gut.

“How’s Caolan?” they asked over the constant drum of rain.

“He’s fine, thanks to the priestess,” said Mastrix Guang, making the wheel of Qi Zhong in the air.

“Just unconscious,” said Zhenping.

“But he can’t practice,” said Rubi.

Whoop, there it was. Daiwen tried to keep their expression as neutral and polite as possible. From the look of shared worry between the others, they’d failed. Ganteng went so far as to reach two tentacles over onto Daiwen’s shoulders.

“We know,” she shouted over the rain. “We know you took the worst from whatever sadistic, cabaret-hating asshat attacked you and Caolan. But Daiwen, we already practiced the set last night.”

One person short would hurt, two even more, but Daiwen had somewhere to be.

“I’m sorry--”

“Nooo!” sobbed Zhenping, dropping their fish head into their fish hands.

“I’ll be there,” said Rubi, patting Zhenping with a tentacle.

“Thank you, dear,” Mastrix Guang murmured, the rain dubbing over their sound with its mismatched splatter.

Ganteng didn’t let go.

“Goddamn it, Daiwen. We’re already working around the two of you--Mastrix Guang here’s gonna be stepping in for a few numbers, but they can’t rap. We need you for the big number!”

They’d abandoned their showbiz friends before and it had been for the best. But Mistress He had never been one to bargain. The cabaret workers were a lot more desperate.

“Only the big number? Then I can go?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever. We’ll start big--”

“End small,” said Rubi, nodding in the window.

“Unplugged, fade out,” said Zhenping.

Mastrix Guang thanked Daiwen. Ganteng said nothing, but her tentacles gave their shoulders a quick squeeze before letting go.

\--/--

The curtains opened to Rubi the giant, porcelain-faced squid on centerstage. She’d left her instruments to her usual side for the moment. Instead, she sang out in a voice as clear and strong as the ring of ship’s bell:

“The time is near  
Don't let the wine go to your brains!”

She wagged a tentacle at the crowd. They hooted and raised their glasses. Rubi shook her head/body.

“We need a sign  
To rally the people  
To bring them in line!”

The spotlight went out onstage. A new light opened on the floor amidst the sea of seated patrons, much to their cheering delight. Ganteng sat with her head in her tentacles at a round table with three random, unwitting guests. 

Zhenping stood behind her in a suit vest, suit pants, and a red cravat. They slapped her shoulder and poured her a shot of rice wine.

“Ganteng, wake up!  
You look as if you've seen a ghost.  
Some wine and say what's going on!”

Ganteng knocked back the shot and stood, climbing with all eight tentacles onto her chair.

“A ghost you say, a ghost maybe  
They were just like a ghost to me  
One minute there, then they were gone!”

She dropped back to the seat, head slumped on her tentacles which splayed across the table. Her three tablemates laughed especially hard.

Zhenping slapped both scaled hands to the sides of their face and stared out over the audience.

“I am agog!  
I am aghast!  
Is Ganteng in love at last?  
You talk of battles to be won  
And here she comes like ‘go off, son’  
It's better than the opera!”

Rubi dropped the music, blowing into a long brass trumpet from her side of the stage. Zhenping ran up the stage stairs and behind the curtain, singing:

“Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh, oh no no  
Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh, oh no no  
Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh, oh no no  
Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh, oh no no.”

At the final ‘no,’ Ganteng raised her head off the table. She stood as she sang and stormed up onto the stage, hips and tentacles swaying: 

“I look and stare so deep in your eyes  
Call your name two or three times in a row.”

Ganteng dropped down to a twisted seat on the floorboards. She kicked four tentacles up high, flashing cloaca.

“I know I don't understand  
Just how your love can do what no one else can.”

Ganteng jumped up to all eight tentacled feet. Mastrix Guang conjured orbs of glowing light at the five points around her. The lights flashed as she danced from pose to pose.

“Got me looking so crazy right now  
Your love's got me looking so crazy right now  
Got me looking so crazy, your love.”

The lights burst into a shower of glitter. From behind the wall of shiny, Rubi rolled a wooden carriage onto the back of the stage. Zhenping sang out from the stagewing:

“Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh, oh no no  
Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh, oh no no  
Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh, oh no no  
Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh, oh no no.”

The carriage door popped open with a burst of smoke. Daiwen walked out wearing nothing but gold platform-heeled boots and a heavy, matching strap-on. They snapped their fingers. The roof of the carriage burst into flames. The crowd went wild.

Daiwen winked at them and rapped:

“Young love, y'all know when the flow’s like yeshou (野獸)  
Qianglong bu yadi toushe, the one and only (強龍不壓地頭蛇)  
Stick bony, but the pockets is fat like jingyu ya know (鯨魚).”

Ganteng danced and swayed over to Daiwen at the center of the stage. She slid her backside down their leg, wrapping one tentacle around Daiwen’s opposite hip and a second around Daiwen’s thigh. Her palms slapped the stage floor. Ganteng straightened her arms, raising her cloaca to thrusting height.

Daiwen obliged, rapping over Ganteng’s gasping:

“The cock handle like luosidao (螺絲刀)  
The genuine article, I do not sing though  
Star gonna puzhao, war like a warrior.” (普照)  
Crazy, burn the whole way.”

Daiwen grabbed Ganteng by her writhing locks and pulled her off the floor, forcing her back into an upward curve as they continued to pound her. A third tentacle grabbed Daiwen’s breast, suctioning the flesh. A fourth wrapped around their throat, loose for now:

“Daiwen in the range, crazy and deranged  
My texture is the best fur: bu ziran (不自然)  
I've been yanfang of chainsmokers (厭煩)  
How you think I got the name ‘Mother’?”

Ganteng shuddered and squealed in orgasm, her tentacles kicking out or clenching tight around Daiwen. On her cumming cue, water jetted up from the floor under her nose. It gushed down on the flaming carriage, putting it out while soaking her and Daiwen to the bone.

Ganteng, unphased, braced her hands against the wet floor. She continued to buck and grind her hole on Daiwen’s dildo. A fifth tentacle slithered between Daiwen’s legs and unzipped the strap-on’s opening over their holes as she sang:

“Your love's got the best of me  
And baby you're making a fool of me  
You got me, so crazy, baby, ey!”

Ganteng came with a shriek, her body going rigid. Her four free tentacles stiffened. Daiwen breathed as deep as they could with the tentacle tight around their throat. 

Two tentacles pushed into Daiwen’s cunt, shoving each other as they forced Daiwen’s walls apart. Daiwen grunted and panted for breath. It wasn’t over ye--the other two pushed into their anus.

The tentacle around their throat choked off their scream. Daiwen dropped to the floor on their hands and knees over Ganteng’s back. Their tongue lolled from their mouth, drool splattering onto Ganteng’s neck.

Ganteng only shoved herself deeper into Daiwen. She shifted the two tentacles around Daiwen’s hip and thigh onto the same leg at the thigh and over the ankle. She raised Daiwen’s bent leg out to the side like a bitch’s, giving the rapt audience a clear view of every squelching thrust. 

Daiwen, choked, came in mousy squeaks. Zhenping’s singing drowned them out as the fish humanoid strutted out in nothing but their red cravat and now matching heels and a strap-on:

“Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh, oh no no  
Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh, oh no no  
Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh, oh no no  
Uh oh, uh oh, uh oh, oh no no.”

Zhenping stopped in front of Daiwen’s drooling face, scaly legs out to either side. In a feat of breathtaking gymnastics, they bent backward, hands to the floor. They walked the red dildo protruding off their bridged body right into Daiwen’s mouth.

Daiwen snorted and choked, snot and tears running down their face. Ganteng rolled onto her side under the two pairs of arms and legs to face the audience. She didn’t stop ramming or singing:

“Looking so crazy, your love's got me looking  
Got me looking so crazy, your love!”

Daiwen let out a piteous, nasal whine. Their holes clenched, wracking their body with convulsions. All the strength sapped from their shaking limbs. Daiwen collapsed onto Ganteng’s back, impaling themself on her stiffened tentacles.

They thrashed and screeched onto Zhenping’s dildo. Ganteng’s four free tentacles snapped onto Daiwen’s arms and legs, holding them down while she and Zhenping gave the crowd their most winning smiles.

The crowd whooped and roared in cheer. The curtain mercifully closed.


	24. Return to Water

Chapter 24: Return to Water (如魚得水)

Daiwen pressed themself flat along the cliff under Bingchi Temple. The ocean surf crashed against the rock in a dizzying drop from the rain-slick path. Daiwen took a deep breath, gulping hard, and scooted slowly down the path, narrow as a goat’s back, to the mouth of the sea caves.

The base of the cliff opened to a black maw lined with stone teeth above and below. Icy waves crashed through the maw, burying the cave’s bottom jaw to the tips of the teeth. Priestess Yong had made provisions, lashing the three headless corpses to one of the stone projections like sailors who’d gone completely overboard trying to avoid a siren’s song.

Daiwen hugged the rock and pulled Caolan’s knife from their re-stitched doll. As they sawed through the rope, the surf roared up behind them. They sawed double-time.

Too slow. The wave crashed. It threw Daiwen against the rocks. They gasped water. The knife rushed out from their fingers with the current.

The wave pulled back. Daiwen clutched the remaining ropes, coughing and sputtering for air. Those weren’t getting free anytime soon, not without serious force.

Daiwen held their breath as the next wave crashed over them. That nameless priest’s ball-eating strength ritual better have worked. Their aura flared purple.

The corpses jerked to life, straining against the ropes. Daiwen’s fingers curled tight around the rope. They focused their aura on the corpses.

The bodies lit with purple that flickered like flames. The purple sank below their skin. As the flames entered, they wove in tight magic fibers over the bodies’s own muscle and bone. Their skin stretched as the corpses bulked up for peak athletic performance.

The bodies strained again against the ropes. The ropes gave. They ripped off the rock.

Daiwen and the bodies broke apart into the water. The ebbing tide dragged them out to sea.

A magically strengthened hand clamped onto Daiwen’s flailing arm. The corpse pulled Daiwen against the current back into the sea cave where the rest of the corpses waited. Together, they hefted Daiwen up to a seat on one set of magically built shoulders and waded into the black cave.

The cave sank deeper into the sea the further they followed its twisting tunnels. The wate rose all the way up to Daiwen’s neck from where they sat on the built corpse’s shoulders. Before it rose any higher, the undead’s feet hit a stone bank. They climbed up to a cavernous air pocket at the heart of the cliff.

The bodies helped Daiwen down onto relatively dry ground. A distant, fly-like buzzing echoed down from the dripping stone teeth above. Three slender shapes floated down from the ceiling on dragonfly wings, each as large as a human.

The creatures landed on four long, spiny legs ending in razor-sharp claws that clicked against the rock. Their narrow torsos rose like those of a mantis. Instead of a head, the creatures had a long, floppy bulb of segmented fungus.

The bulbs swivelled toward Daiwen and company, glowing red. Daiwen gave the Deep Dwellers a weak, limp-wristed wave. The rounded heads of the bulb pulled apart to a fleshy maw connected by meaty tendons. They spoke with the buzzing voice of a thousand flies.

“You trespass, little human.”

The primal fear of being eaten alive snapped Daiwen to attention. They waved both arms with much more conviction and bowed in apology.

“Sorry I just blew in out of nowhere, but this is urgent. Deep Dwellers, my name is Daiwen and I’ve came to bargain. For Priest Ku Houran.”

Their fleshy, fungal bulbs glowed with a whole rainbow of flashing colors. The clicks of their front claws sounded almost like razor-sharp, clucking laughter.

“You bring us three walking slabs of week-old meat to trade for a being’s life?”

“No. I bring you the gift of dance.”

The dead bodies formed a semi-circle in front of Daiwen, facing the Deep Dwellers. Daiwen cracked their knuckles. It was true what Ganteng said--they couldn’t sing or dance. But, Daiwen just had learned to rap. Better yet, they’d just created a team of the most physically fit undead they’d ever encountered.

Daiwen pulled their arms back to their chest and spread their fingers apart. Strings of purple aura arced out from their fingertips to the necks of the dead, descending down their spines. Daiwen crossed their arms in front of their chest and stamped one foot to a jaunty beat, calling out:

“Ooh this my shit  
All the gurls stamp your feet like this.”

Daiwen’s hands closed to fists. The three undead stamped one foot then rocked to the other, dancing into a line one behind the other. As Daiwen rapped, they leaned to alternating sides with a shushing finger raised to the space where their mouths would’ve been:

“Few times I've been around that track  
So it's not just gonna happen like that.”

The dead raised their arms straight and sank one after the other into perfect splits. The last in line hit the ground and immediately squeezed back up just enough for a spinning kick. The others followed suit, back to front.

“People hear you talking like that, getting everybody fired up.”

Daiwen opened their hands flat and circled their arms out from their body.

The dead pivoted to the side, each facing their neighbor’s opposite direction. The first backflipped out from the line. The second backflipped. Then the third.

“Put your pom-poms down, getting everybody fired up.”

Daiwen circled their arms back in front of their chest. The dead front-flipped back into line. Daiwen flung their hands down then over their head.

The back two undead stepped apart, holding their arms in the space between them. The undead in the front crossed their arms over their chest and fell back.

The undead caught their fellow and threw them up to standing on their shoulders. The top undead punched their arms out in a whole clockwork of directions as Daiwen rapped:

“Let me hear you say, this shit is bananas, B-A-N-A-N-A-S!  
This shit is bananas, B-A-N-A-N-A-S!”

Daiwen circled their fists like they were blasting a punching back. The bottom two undead tossed their fellow into the air. The flying undead spun on their side and landed in the other’s arms. The catchers pushed them up into a front flip.

The star undead stuck the landing, throwing their arms high. If they had to breath, they would’ve been panting but smiling through the sweat. Fortunately, they couldn’t even see their fungal/insectoid judges.

The three Deep Dwellers huddled together. Their claws clacked and their bulbs flashed with every color under the sun. 

Daiwen wiped their sweaty palms on the sides of their spider silk sheath. The three undead did the same. Daiwen hastily broke the magic strings between them, the purple dissolving into the black of the cave.

The three Deep Dwellers turned back toward Daiwen and the dead dancers. They approached, claws clacking on the rock, until their floppy bulbs loomed over Daiwen’s head. The first glowed blue. Then the second. The third. Their fleshy maws opened.

“We accept the gift of dance in exchange for your priest’s life. Follow us.”

Daiwen left their undead dance team in the cavern and followed the Deep Dwellers up a winding tunnel. Hundreds of other paths branched off from weirdly twisted holes in the main tunnel.

Daiwen gripped the straps of their backpack and walked a little closer to the Deep Dwellers. They may’ve performed human experimentation and brainwashed all of Bingchi, but Daiwen would rather threaten to step on their heels and pick up the pace than stay any longer than necessary with all those holes in the rock.

The Deep Dwellers obliged. They reached the right hole less than a minute later. Its giant, bottle-like shape clearly favored the bodies of the Deep Dwellers. They waved their spiny forelimbs for Daiwen to enter first.

Daiwen followed a slick, narrow staircase along the rounded wall of the stone chamber. The floor was half dark, briny water, and half dry prison cell. Scattered over the ground was a filthy straw futon, dirty blue priest robes, and a small, garishly painted holy symbol. 

Daiwen turned back to the three Deep Dwellers at the top of the stairs.

“Where’s the priest?”

A distant, fly-like buzzing echoed down from the dripping stone teeth above. A fourth Deep Dweller crashed to the cell floor, landing hard on all six clawed limbs. Ever their floppy bulb, glowing a sickly green, grazed the floor.

The new Deep Dweller dragged themself up to full height. On their torso was a porcelain, mask-like face. Its eyes and mouth holes twisted in agony. Their fleshy bulb opened with their porcelain mouth as they spoke.

“Help...me…”

All the blood drained out through Daiwen’s feet. They staggered back and slipped on the slick stone. Daiwen landed hard on their butt, the thunk echoing through the room, but they didn’t feel a thing.

The Deep Dwellers had transformed Priest Ku into one of their own. Daiwen didn’t have the magic to transform them back. They couldn’t even bring them to the temple--some brainwashed townsfolk would definitely notice and react with whatever protective measure the Deep Dwellers had brainwashed into them.

Fuck. Daiwen should’ve brought Priest Yong. They could leave to get her, but the Deep Dwellers might take that as a voiding of the bargain. Who knew what they’d do to Dagong’s most devout…

Daiwen crawled over to the holy symbol. If Priest Ku was really Dagong’s most devout servant, surely their god would help them. They knelt and placed their fingers on the edges of the wooden disk.

“Dagong, this is Daiwen,” they murmured into the dark of the cave. “I know you don’t know me, but I’m trying to help someone you do, Priest Ku Houran.”

They held the holy symbol up at the priest for the god to see--if that was how holy symbols worked.

“Please, show me what to do. Use me--”

Daiwen’s aura flared a ghostly purple. Its wave filled the entire chamber. 

As it passed over Priest Ku, their torso jerked up straight. Their fleshy bulb glowed pink. The mask’s eyes widened, the mouth opening to a round ‘o.’ A large, dripping bulb like a fleshy, segmented stinger extended from under their abdomen.

That, Daiwen knew how to do. They stripped off all their clothes. Their naked skin glowed softly in the ghostly purple light. The pink of the priest’s two bulbs deepened as the mask’s hollow eyes traced Daiwen’s glowing outline. 

Daiwen decided to help them. They raised two fingers and traced a line between their breasts all the way down between their legs. They rubbed their cunt. As they rubbed harder, faster, Daiwen sank to the floor on trembling knees.

Daiwen’s clit twitched. Their pussy dripped. But Daiwen couldn’t cum.

Goddamn Dagong. Daiwen looked up helplessly at the priest.

“Wanna help me?”


	25. To Mend the Broken Mirror

Chapter 25: To Mend the Broken Mirror (破鏡重圓)

The priest reared up on their back two, locust-like legs, baring their glowing cock. Their erection stood well over Daiwen’s head.

“You’re gonna need to come down a little.”

The mask cringed, bulb head flashing pale yellow. They dropped down on their arms over Daiwen, forcing Daiwen onto their own hands and knees to keep their head from banging against the priest’s stomach plates. The fleshy head bulb flopped just over Daiwen’s exposed ass. The blunted, dripping stinger stretched out in front of their mouth.

Daiwen pushed the end of the priest’s dick between their lips. The fluid sweating from its segments was as bitter and sticky as human precum. Daiwen crawled forward, further impaling their head and throat down on the priest’s dick with every step.

The mask moaned over them. The priest’s front and middle legs surrounded Daiwen in the blink of an eye. Four claws closed over their wrists and knees, locking them in place halfway down the priest’s dick.

The priest held them there as they started to thrust, using Daiwen’s throat like a tube of flesh. Daiwen grunted and snorted in protest, bucking their hips to get the priest either of their empty, empty holes.

The priest couldn’t stop. They pounded Daiwen to the back of their throat, sheathing their leaking dick to the hilt. Daiwen coughed and choked, their throat clenching tight. The mask screamed.

The priest curled over Daiwen. Their hard stomach plates slammed tight down on Daiwen’s back. Daiwen jerked under them, but the clawed cuffs kept them locked in place with their ass cheeks crushed against the mask and the blub head laying heavy over their swollen lips.

The priest rammed them harder, faster, knocking Daiwen’s ass into the mask. A long, burning tongue snaked between their cheeks to their puckered hole. Daiwen shuddered and whined with need.

The pointed tip squeezed just through the mouth of their anus. The priest rammed Daiwen straight down onto the thick tongue.

The cock stuffing Daiwen’s throat muffled their scream. The tongue writhed against the walls of their anus. Daiwen’s shaft clenched down. They didn’t cum.

Daiwen shrieked in frustration, jerking and writhing under the priest, locking in their claws. The tongue only pushed deeper. It lashed the strength from their limbs like a whip.

Daiwen’s arms and legs collapsed. They slumped helplessly onto the priest’s dick, their tortured ass in the air. They choked and snorted for breath. The priest’s head bulb burned over the strain in their lungs as it pushed into their bared cunt.

That prodded the life back into them. Daiwen jumped in the priest’s claws, back banging against the stomach plates. They bucked and thrashed as the bulb squeezed inside. It stuffed their cunt from wall to wall.

Daiwen’s shaft clenched and clenched around the rubbery flesh tearing it apart. Their cunt convulsed. Daiwen’s body wracked with pleasured shock. Ass, cunt, and throat spasmed around the priest’s alien, stuffing flesh. Daiwen gurgled and snorted in shameless release.

Their orgasm pulled the priest down with them. The mask moaned into Daiwen’s ass. Hot, bitter cum burst down Daiwen’s throat. Daiwen bucked and rocked in senseless pleasure, drinking it down.

Drained to the last drop, the priest’s claws released Daiwen’s wrists and knees. Priest Ku rolled off their back to the stone floor. Daiwen dropped to the other side, panting for breath. Their quivering flesh, coated in fluid, stuck to the stone.

The ghostly purple light sank down from the walls and ceiling of the chamber. It flowed into the priest until their whole, Deep Dweller body glowed with the same ghostly purple from bulb to bulb. 

The insectoid plates cracked. They broke off into glass-like purple shards that drifted up off the body. They dissolved into the blackness of the cave. 

As the light broke and faded, the priest’s body shrank back to a naked, human form. Dark, monolid eyes in an earth-skinned face met Daiwen’s. They brimmed with tears.

“I’m sorry,” they rasped, “so sorry you had to--”

Daiwen reached across the slick stone floor and gave the priest’s human fingers a squeeze.

“Let’s just get out of here.”

Daiwen and Priest Ku forced themselves up onto their shaking hands and knees. As they gathered their clothes, the three remaining Deep Dwellers flew down and hovered over the surface of the briny water. One by one, their fleshy bulbs glowed blue.

“Thank you for your contributions to our human research department. Adjustments will be made to future transformations based on our finding here today,” they buzzed.

“First of all, fuck you,” said Priest Ku.

“Second of all, great, thanks, we’re just gonna go now,” said Daiwen, tugging the priest to the stairs.

The Deep Dwellers watched them go. They didn’t stop Daiwen and the priest from reaching the tunnel. Neither did they fly up to guide them out.

Daiwen’s aura flared its normal purple. The joke was on them. Daiwen had left their undead agents back at the main cavern. Though they’d gone back to being dead outside of Daiwen’s aura, the purple strings that snaked out from Daiwen’s fingertips remembered the last bodies to which they’d been attached.

Daiwen held their hand out straight in front of them and followed the lines back to the cavern. They didn’t dare re-raise the dead with Priest Ku watching, but neither Daiwen nor the priest wanted to leave the corpses with those experimental bastards.

The priest motioned for Daiwen to follow them to the far wall of the cave. Priest Ku raised their palm to face the bodies.

“Dagong guide your souls.” 

The bodies burst into flames. Daiwen jumped, gripping the priest’s arm. The priest gave them a weary but reassuring half-smile. Daiwen’s hand loosened, sliding down the priest’s sleeve to meet theirs.

They stood, hand in hand, watching the bodies burn to ash. Neither spoke until the last tongue of flame flickered out. They dumped the remains into the water.

The priest swam out toward the tunnel, but Daiwen remained on the stony bank where they’d pushed off the final corpse.

“I can’t swim.”

“Then how did you--whatever. Climb up on my back.”

Daiwen wrapped their arms around the priest’s surprisingly built shoulders and their legs around Priest Ku’s firm torso. The priest ferried Daiwen through the black waters.

“Thank you for saving me. I...don’t even know your name.”

Daiwen told them everything: their name, their quest to get home, the spirit gates--

“Oh god.”

“What?”

“If you absolutely have to, I can help you get to the gate of fire, but it’s not a pleasant ritual.”

“It can’t be worse than having to break all the bones of my body again.”

“What?”

“Nothing. So...where did the Deep Dwellers get Dagong’s precious idol?”

“A group of magic-wielding bandits came through, necromancers,” the priest spat the word like a curse.

Priest Ku had driven the necromancing bandits, who Daiwen had begun to suspect were the Whispering Way, out of the town and right into the waiting arms of the Deep Dwellers. The bandits, undoubtedly the same ones who’d robbed Count Cao of his idol and left him to die, had bargained that idol away and vanished before the priest could get to it.

“Well, it’s safe with Priestess Yong now, and she’s gonna be so happy to see you safe, too.”

She was, throwing her plump arms around Priest Ku and Daiwen as well. Priestess Yong took them both down to the lower level of the temple despite Daiwen’s reminder that they weren’t actually holy enough to be there.

“I don’t know what you’ve been up to since then, but right now you’re brimming with divine power--I swear to Dagong, you’re holier than me right now.”

Daiwen and Priest Ku stepped away from each other and averted their eyes. Priestess Yong didn’t make it any easier, insisting that they bathe before resting. She set up the temple’s one wooden bathing tub for them to share--

“The water’s best while it’s hot!”

Daiwen and the priest compromised by getting in back-to-back. Daiwen’s skin, still charged with Dagong’s power, prickled at the touch of Priest Ku’s back against theirs. A visceral tug jolted from their core to their cunt. Daiwen shivered, flushing at their own lack of control. 

They felt only slightly better but no less empty when Priest Ku’s breath hitched and they shuddered back.

“Houran, your holy symbol isn’t here,” said Priestess Yong, arms full of their filthy clothes.

“I guess I left it--Yong, do you mind prepping another one for me?”

“Of course, right away!”

Daiwen looked over their shoulder the second the priestess left the room. Their eyes locked with Priest Ku’s. Both pairs dilated. Daiwen and the priest dragged each other under the water.

\--/--

Daiwen had to wonder if Priestess Yong knew more than she was letting on when she fixed up a straw futon for Daiwen in a guest room right beside Priest Ku’s room. Daiwen and the priest said nothing about it, but neither did they sleep.

Both greeted Priestess Yong at dawn, nearly falling face-first into their bowls of rice porridge.

“Oh, you’re up early! Are you brainstorming how to deal with Bingchi’s little brainwashing problem?”

Priest Ku blinked the feral, half-lidded heat from their black-ringed eyes.

“What?”

Priestess Yong explained, reminding Daiwen of the reason why they hadn’t gone back to the cabaret, which they’d completely forgotten after the bathing incident. Priest Ku nodded with the same nearly religious focus they’d shown when they’d pinned Daiwen to the bedroom floor and shoved their fist elbow-deep into Daiwen’s cunt.

“Yeah, I can perform a mental purification, but it’s a taxing ritual. We’d have to get the whole town together--”

“A performance!” said Daiwen, jerking up off their porridge bowl and sending wet grains flying. “I know the cabaret workers. They’re always up to draw a crowd, and there’d be no bigger draw than the town’s favorite missing priest.”

“What about the children?” asked Priestess Yong.

Priest Ku shook their head.

“The Deep Dwellers may be godless, amoral bastards, but they’re ruthlessly efficient when it comes to magic science.” 

The Deep Dwellers couldn’t count results that came from underdeveloped minds toward their human research. Thus, they wouldn’t have bothered wasting their magic on any children. The elderly would’ve been spared as well.

“Then it could work,” said Daiwen.

“I wouldn’t have to do anything erotic, would I?”

“No, I’m sure they wouldn’t force you. Just come out and do the ritual on stage while we’re doing the big number around you.”

“That’s a relief.”

“Not that we have anything against you sex workers,” said Priestess Yong. “It’s just that when you become a priest, you technically become the spouse of your god and those things get kind of iffy.”

Everything--from the moment Daiwen had met the real Priest Ku to the heat that sent them fucking on top the kitchen table not an hour ago--clicked. When Daiwen finally spoke, their voice barely sounded over a whisper.

“Your god really loves you.”

“I know,” said Priestess Yong, happily patting the painted holy symbol peeking from her pocket.

Priest Ku said nothing, but their hand squeezed Daiwen’s under the table. 

The two had enjoyed the god’s love while they’d had it, but they wouldn’t have any time to spare once breakfast ended. Daiwen and the priest pulled their fingers away, removing their last point of contact. The space they’d touched itched with the scratches of a thousand ghostly needles.


	26. The Cloud Shifts from White to Gray

Chapter 26: The Cloud Shifts from White to Gray (白衣蒼狗)

The morning rain followed Daiwen and the two priests from the temple to the cabaret. Zhenping opened the door. Their broom clattered to the floor. They screamed, head fins flaring.

Ganteng and Rubi, wielding cleaning implements in multiple limbs, stopped at the commotion. Multiple cleaning implements hit the floor.

Rubi scooted her head/body toward the door in a flurry of wheeling tentacles. She scooped Daiwen and the priests up into her rubbery arms and hoisted them under the ceiling with happy, incoherent sobs. Ganteng ran behind the stage, calling for Mastrix Guang. She jogged back with the mastrix of the house and Caolan in tow.

“Look! Look at it! It’s Priest Ku!” said Rubi, swinging all three into their faces.

Caolan’s smile vanished into a blank-eyed stare the second Daiwen swung past him. He leapt. Daiwen flinched. Priestess Yong subtly pointed in his direction.

“Easy there,” she said.

Caolan smacked right into Rubi’s tentacle. He dropped to the wine-stained floor, snoring.

“Caolan!”

Mastrix Guang, Ganteng, and Zhenping crowded around his sleeping, bruising form. Priestess Yong waved their concern away with one hand.

“Simple overexcitement--don’t worry, it’s a totally normal side-effect of almost being murdered.”

“We have a show tonight,” said Ganteng flatly.

“Since one of your workers helped find me,” said Priest Ku, avoiding both Daiwen’s eyes and name, “we’d be honored to help you with that.”

Mastrix Guang’s, Ganteng’s, and Zhenping’s eyes widened as large as a pair of holy symbols. Their profit calculations practically floated in the air between their faces.

“That will definitely pull a crowd,” said Mastrix Guang. “Maybe the whole town.”

“We’ll have to move out all of the tables and chairs,” said Ganteng before turning on the priests. “Can you sing? Dance?”

“Well--” Priest Ku began.

“Bondage!” shrieked Zhenping.

“Not for me, thanks,” said Rubi.

“Actually Rubi, can Priestess Yong and I talk with you for a second?” asked Daiwen.

The eyes in the giant squid’s porcelain mask of a face widened even larger than holy symbols, as large as spinning circus platters.

“I would love to!”

Rubi let Priest Ku down to work out the particulars of Yunming Cabaret’s new, biggest-number-of-all-time-even-if-it-was-during-fishing-season. She carried Daiwen and Priestess Yong outside the green room. Rubi squeezed her wagon-sized body through the doorway and right out through the window. A single tentacle left on their side of the hall beckoned them in.

“Please, take a sofa!”

“Is it alright if we stand just stand here in the doorway?” asked Daiwen.

Hopefully, the distance would give Priestess Yong enough time to cast her sleeping spell in case things went poorly.

“That seems uncomfortable.”

“Maybe for mermaids, but not for us.”

“Oh, ok. Did you want to talk about what it’s like to be a mermaid?”

“Yes. Do mermaids know what ‘Deep Dwellers’ are?”

Rubi’s porcelain face twisted and scrunched into squint. Daiwen tensed in the doorway. Priestess Yong readied her pointing finger.

“No. But they sound delicious.”

“Sadly, they’re not food,” Daiwen sighed in relief.

“‘Deep Dwellers’ is a bad word,” said Priestess Yong. “So please don’t repeat that to anyone.”

“Yes ma’am, I won’t even say it to myself.”

“Thanks, Rubi,” said Daiwen. “So what can you tell us about mermaids?”

A lot, as it turned out. Daiwen and Priestess Yong did eventually have to take a seat in the green room to hear her out. Rubi was too polite to say anything about their sudden change of stance on sofas.

\--/--

Despite being limited to word-of-mouth and sandwich-board advertisements, the entire town came out to see the missing priest make their debut at a cabaret along with their substitute priest. A few of the less patient, less sober members of the audience took up a chant halfway into the night’s performances:

“We want the priest! We want the priest!”

Ganteng stepped back from the curtain, letting it fall closed behind her. She shrugged at the others.

“They want the priest.”

Mastrix Guang gave a single, sharp nod. Zhenping pumped their fists into the air and ran off to the changing area. Daiwen followed. They breathed as steadily as they could over their heart jumping in their chest.

The front curtains opened to darkness on an empty stage. As Rubi sang out from the band section into the taut silence, blue-gray smoke crept out from under the back curtains:

“Do you hear the people sing?  
Singing the song of angry men?  
It is the music of the people  
Who will not be slaves again  
When the beating of your heart  
Echoes the beating of the drums  
There is a life about to start  
When tomorrow comes.”

Rubi picked up her instruments.

Daiwen, Ganteng, and Zhenping rode out through the back curtain on phantom steeds of billowing smoke. They were naked except for the red ropes that bound their chests tight and their arms behind their back. Leather straps bound their calves/tentacles but not their thighs to leather saddles, letting each of them perch the mouths of their holes/hole over the saddle’s two thick, heavy dildos.

Ganteng sang, screwing her cloaca down the length of both dildos at once:

“Will you join in our crusade?  
Who will be strong and stand with me?  
Beyond the barricade  
Is there a world you long to see?”

Zhenping slid faster than intended down the oiled lengths. The dildos rammed a squeal out from them between their verses: 

“Then join in the fight  
That will give you the right to be free!”

Daiwen swallowed hard and pushed the heads through their holes. The wide, heavy dildos pinched the shared wall of Daiwen’s shafts between them even as they forced it apart from the rest of the stretched shafts. 

Daiwen whimpered and rocked their hips just enough to work the dildos up deeper. Their strategy worked against them. The lengths of the dildos banged them sidewise at the same time as they filled Daiwen’s shafts. 

Daiwen’s walls spasmed, threatening to send them over the edge. Daiwen broke into a sweat but smiled over their clenched teeth. 

The saddle ever-so-slightly parted their ass cheeks and the lips of their slit. Daiwen nearly sobbed with relief. They’d passed the hardest part--their holes had sheathed the dildos to the hilt. 

Daiwen threw their head back in triumph, roaring:

“Don't wanna be a Deep Dweller’s idiot.”

Rubi slammed the drums and took up a frentic strum on her stringed instruments.

The crowd stiffened. Ganteng and Zhenping stifferened. Their faces went completely blank.

“Don't want a town under new experiment.”

Ganteng, Zhenping, and the crowd roared back. Ganteng and Zhenping strained at their bonds. The crowd charged at the stage.

Rubi’s free tentacles opened the back curtains. Priestess Yong grinned at the crowd and clapped her hands. 

“And can you hear the sound of hysteria?”

The first of the runners bounced off a wall of force at the edge of the stage. They hit the second line, taking them down to the wine-stained floor. The rest climbed over them to beat and claw at the invisible wall.

“The subliminal mind-fucked Binchi-a.”

Priest Ku, keeping their eyes on the crowd, walked past Daiwen to the front of the stage and took up the song:

“Welcome to a new kind of tension  
All across an alien nation  
Where everything isn't meant to be okay.”

Priest Ku reached into their robe pockets and pulled out two handfuls of paper tags glyphed with red ink.

“Brainwashed dreams of tomorrow  
They’re not the ones we're meant to follow  
That’s enough, gotta push through.”

Priest Ku threw the spell tags through Priestess Yong’s wall. The papers flew onto the foreheads of the brainwashed townsfolk.

The curtain fluttered from the side of the stage opposite Rubi. Mastrix Guang and Caolan. They’d gotten inside the wall. FUCK.

Mastrix Guang clapped their hands. The smoky forms of the three phantom horses shifted to three phantom bulls. The bulls went buck wild.

Daiwen yelped as the bull threw them. Strapped to the saddle, they had nowhere to go. The leather straps bit into Daiwen’s calves. They yanked Daiwen down to the base of the dildos.

The drop pounded all the air from Daiwen’s lungs with a bodily grunt. The bull bucked and bucked, impaling Daiwen deeper with every throw and slam. 

Daiwen huffed and grunted, helpless to the convulsions the bull rammed into their cunt and anus. It was all they could do just to remain conscious.

Rubi, still playing her instruments, looked over the stage in confusion. She took up the song herself:

“Don't wanna be a Deep Dweller’s idiot.”

Mastrix Guang kept one hand out toward the three bucking bulls. They pointed their son at Priest Ku with the other.

“One town controlled by experiment.”

Caolan charged. Daiwen’s aura flared ghostly purple. Their head cleared just enough from their rutting pleasure to scream out the priest’s name in warning.

“Houran!”

“Are you feeling the brainwashed hysteria?”

The priest turned. Caolan went for the throat. Priest Ku shifted to the side. Caolan went over their hip. The priest caught the back of his jacket and slammed Caolan face-first into the stage floor. 

Even Mastrix Guang winced for him through their brainwashed fog. With their concentration broken, the bulls vanished into formless clouds of smoke. Daiwen, Ganteng, and Zhenping hit the floor with a chorus of grunts.

“Time to call out the parasitic magic.”

Priest Ku ran to Daiwen. Daiwen’s clenching shafts wracked their body with such violent spasms that they couldn’t warn the priest to stay back. So the priest’s hands touched their naked, quivering shoulders.

Raw heat lanced from the priest’s fingertips straight down the curve of Daiwen’s arched back. They moaned in pure, feral need, head lolling back over their shoulders.

Priest Ku moaned back. They ripped open their robes, baring their cunt for Daiwen’s tongue. They braced their hands against Daiwen’s shoulders as they sucked the priest’s clit.

Priest Ku stamped one boot against the raised lip of Daiwen’s saddle. They rocked the saddle and pushed Daiwen down onto the dildos. Daiwen writhed and screamed their helpless orgasm into the priest’s cunt.

“Welcome to a new kind of tension  
All across an alien nation  
Where everything isn't meant to be okay.”

Priest Ku shuddered in Daiwen’s mouth. Their hips bucked. Daiwen’s mouth slid to the side. Over the priest’s thigh, they glimpsed the crowd throwing themselves again and again into Priestess Yong’s wall.

The ritual.

“Brainwashed dreams of tomorrow  
They're not the ones we're meant to follow  
That’s enough, gotta push through.”

Daiwen couldn’t stop themself from sucking the priest’s throbbing clit, but they croaked out when they came up for air.

“The ritual! The ritual!”

Priest Ku grunted and turned their half-lidded eyes over their shoulder. They winced under their cresting orgasm, leaving them with one half-eye open. The priest’s nails dug into Daiwen’s shoulders, but they couldn’t stop the spasms shuddering up from their cunt.

Priest Ku cried out and pried one hand off Daiwen. They held their shaking arm out toward the crowd.

“Be. Free,” they rasped.

The papers burst into blue-gray ash all over the brainwashed faces. The crowd fell back from the wall. The patrons looked from one ash-covered face to the other. 

The wall shimmered and winked out. Priestess Yong collapsed to her hands and knees in a puddle of sweat at the back of the stage. 

Ganteng and Zhenping looked from Priest Yong to Priest Ku face-fucking Daiwen between them. They shrugged and sang the show out to the big finish:

“Do you hear the people sing?  
Singing the song of angry men?  
It is the music of the people  
Who will not be slaves again!”

Mastrix Guang, also covered in ash, walked out onstage. They beckoned at the crowd to join in. They did:

“When the beating of your heart  
Echoes the beating of the drums  
There is a life about to start  
When tomorrow comes!”

Mastrix Guang raised their arms. The curtains billowed up and out from the stage over the crowd. The rosy fingers of a phantom sunrise spread down the length of the black curtains. As the light travelled down, it streaked the curtains with every color of the sky.

The crowd went wild. The smoke flooded the stage like a giant cloud. They could barely see the silhouette of Priest Ku leaning down to kiss the slick off Daiwen’s lips.


	27. Deep Water, Scorching Fire

Chapter 27: Deep Water, Scorching Fire (水深火热)

The cabaret performers and the priests gathered together in the green room after the show for a celebratory buffet. Daiwen made wide circles around the priests as they said their goodbyes. Zhenping threw their arms around Daiwen, blubbering. Rubi joined in, wrapping them both in her tentacles.

Spare tentacles snapped out, dragging everyone and their rice bowls into one massive, rubbery group hug. Thankfully, Rubi’s lung-crushing coils were so thick that they kept Daiwen from touching anyone but Zhenping, whose scaly skin sandwiched against theirs from fish head to finned feet.

“Thanks guys,” said Daiwen, the words muffled by their squished cheek. “I’ll miss you too.”

Ganteng hung around after Rubi released her not-unwilling prisoners. Ganteng passed her bowl to one suction-cupped tentacle of her own and placed a hand on Daiwen’s shoulder.

“You can’t sing. You can’t dance. But you sure know how to throw one heck of an exorcism.”

“Ah…”

“You didn’t help plan any of that, did you?”

“That was all the priests and Mastrix Guang.”

“Then I take back that last part.”

“Thanks, Ganteng.”

“Anytime,” she grinned, giving their shoulder a solid pat.

Daiwen shook their head, grinning back. They finished their food while their good mood lasted, leaving Caolan standing in the corner for last. As they approached, his eyes flicked over Rubi and out the open window. Daiwen set down their bowl and shrugged on their punching doll.

Scattered drops of rain plinked over the surface of the glowing tidepools. Daiwen and Caolan walked barefoot over the wet gravel. The farthest reach of the surf weakly tugged their feet toward the sea with its foamy fingers. They kept walking.

The rain grew from light plinks to icy plunks nearly a mile out from the cabaret. Daiwen pulled their hood further down over their head.

“We should head back.”

“Yeah.”

He didn’t say another word until the cabaret was back in sight. So, incidentally, were the rocks where he’d unwittingly tried to kill them. The straps of Daiwen’s backpack pulled snug over their shoulders.

“Daiwen...I remember--”

“I don’t want to. That wasn’t you, so you should just forget it, too.”

“I can’t. Because it wasn’t me. I never want to be taken like that again. So...thank you for saving me.”

“I didn’t--”

“You did. None of this would’ve happened without you. I don’t know if anyone else has any idea--just, thank you.”

An apology, Daiwen couldn’t have accepted. This was worse. Despite the rain, Daiwen couldn’t hide their tears. Caolan stood by their side, hand in theirs, eyes on the ever-crashing surf.

Daiwen squeezed his hand even as they cursed the fact that they had to hide the necromancy that saved the town. In the eyes of the townsfolk, they were no better than those godless, amoral Deep Dwellers.

Daiwen was ready to get the heck out of Bingchi. Priest Ku must’ve read it in their face because the priest stepped beside them the minute Daiwen plodded through the green room door.

“Tonight?”

“Now.”

Daiwen and the priests left for the temple with a hasty thanks and goodbye. Priest Ku briefed Daiwen on the spirit gate ritual as they towelled off. Daiwen’s gut clenched at the mere thought of it.

“Will we have to restrain you?” asked Priest Ku.

“You’d better.”

The two priests escorted Daiwen back to the temple’s secret shrine to its true god. Dagou popped a single blue eye up from their pool to watch as Priest Ku and Priestess Yong hung lidless censers from the ceiling on long metal chains. The smoking incense filled the room with a thick, heady haze that gathered in Daiwen’s lungs like cotton candy.

Daiwen passed their doll to Priestess Yong. She leaned it against the stone altar exactly like one of the headless bodies.

“Are you ready for this?”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry it has to be--”

“Please. Please just let me get it over with.”

Before they lost their nerve.

“Get on the altar,” Priest Ku quietly commanded.

They held out a hand to help Daiwen jump over Dagou’s pool. Pirest Ku only let go when Daiwen had made it up on their knees on top of the altar. The priest flexed their fingers as though releasing a ghost.

Daiwen laid their head and chest down on the rough stone of the altar, but their ass remained in the air. Priest Ku hooked two fingers through the leg of Daiwen’s underwear. They pulled it down to the back of their knees, fully exposing their sensitive holes.

Daiwen shuddered with a sudden pang of fear. Their holes clenched. Priest Ku snapped their fingers.

“Dagou, catch.”

Freezing water exploded up from the pool. Dagou’s webbed tentacles crashed down over Daiwen’s head, arms, and torso. The heavy, rubbery sheet of flesh flattened all but their ass against the altar, holding them tight.

Daiwen couldn’t see a thing through the thick skin pinning their cheek to the stone. They fought to steady their breath, but the weight and the smoke left them straining for the shallowest gasp.

“Hurry! Please, hurry!”

Their lungs shrivelled with every word.

Priestess Yong took up a murmured chant. Priest Ku placed a hand on the soft cheek of their ass. They pulled it further off Daiwen’s tightly clenched anus.

“I know this isn’t your world,” they said, their voice so soft over the chant and through the rubbery skin that Daiwen might’ve imagined it, “but if you ever find your way back, you’re always welcome here with us. With me.”

Daiwen’s puckered hole winked open. Priest Ku pushed a thin metal tube through its mouth. Daiwen’s hands, pinned to sides of their hips, curled to fists. THe priest’s fingers brushed theirs.

“Goodbye, Daiwen.”

Priest Ku blew into the pipe. Hot smoke blasted up into Daiwen’s asshole. A thousand burning needles stabbed the soft lining of their shaft.

Daiwen screamed and thrashed. Dagou’s heavy flesh kept them crushed and smothered against the altar. Their knees and shins banged and scraped the rough stone as the stabbing heat wracked their anus with uncontrollable spasms.

The raw lump in their throat choked off their screams before the second blast of smoke. Daiwen squealed through their nose, jerking and writhing on the end of the pipe.

Dagou’s rubbery sheet of flesh wrapped down tighter. The stone scraped across the full length of Daiwen’s face. Daiwen couldn’t move an inch in the creature’s iron grip.

Priest Ku blew one final blast. Daiwen huffed and snorted in helpless agony as their legs jerked and spasmed behind them. Their face leaked snot, sweat, and tears into the darkness of Dagou’s hold.

But as they whimpered and writhed, the clouds that filled their convulsing anus condense from burning smoke to hot but solid flesh. Daiwen’s shaft clamped down on the intruding phallus in desperate relief. A shock of animal pleasure lanced up Daiwen’s spine to the base of their brain and down between their legs to their tightly curled toes.

The sheet of rubbery flesh holding them down pulled back over Daiwen’s head. It shrank and hardened into a solid block of red wax encasing their arms and torso. The altar underneath them smoothed and melded to the black as a bed-sized slab of red wax.

The hot phallus pulled out from Daiwen’s prickling anus. The head shifted down over the flushed lips of their cunt. A second head brushed against their stretched asshole.

“I am Huoshenmen (火神門), guardian of the fire gate,” a low voice rumbled from behind them. “What were you doing on my dick?”

“S-sorry,” Daiwen croaked. “I’m Daiwen, and I just want to go home.”

“You would do anything to go home?”

“Yes.”

The answer choked out from them in a half-laugh, half-sob. Daiwen clenched their fists tight and bucked their hips against the spirit’s dicks. The two heads distended both of their holes inward, pushing into Daiwen with a soft pop.

Daiwen and the spirit both grunted. Huoshenmen reached around Daiwen’s hips and ground the heel of their palm against Daiwen’s mound.

Daiwen squeaked and squirmed in their hand as Huoshenmen slid two fingers down the line of their slit and into their stuffed cunt. THe spirit gripped down over and under Daiwen’s pubic bone, holding Daiwen in place by the cunt as they pounded them against bed of wax.

Both shafts convulsed on Huoshenmen’s dicks. Daiwen screamed in wracking orgasm, thrashing against the walls the encasing block. The thick red wax cracked.

Huoshenmen moaned. Hot, oozing cum pumped out from both heads. Daiwen whimpered and shuddered as their womb and anus filled to the brim.

The spirit eased out of Daiwen’s battered holes. Their cum slopped in thick ropes down Daiwen’s thighs. The red wax block fell off Daiwen’s slumped form in thick chunks.

Huoshenmen helped Daiwen stretch out onto the wax bed, laying them out on their back. The naked guard had the character of fire (火) inked in blue on their ruddy brown chest. BLue glyphs spiraled out from ‘fire’ down their stocky legs and up over their broad shoulders. Four red eyes glowed from the silk-wrapped eye sockets of a gorilla skull.

Huoshenmen sat on the edge of the wax bed beside Daiwen, looking out to a red horizon. Daiwen turned on their side, slopping more translucent red cum onto their legs.

The wax bed was an altar on the edge of a black stone canyon that gouged into the earth as far as the eye could see. Red rivers of lava snaked at the feet of the black cliffs. Daiwen sat up slowly.

“What is this place?”

“A home. A prison.”

“A home can’t be a prison.”

“Can’t it? What were you, in your home?”

A dirt-poor seamster with a dead father, most likely a dead mother, and...they couldn’t really call their village home seeing as how they’d be killed on sight for necromancy if they ever got back.

“No one.”

“What are you, here?”

“Please,” Daiwen shook their head, “please just let me go.”

Huoshenmen smiled under the gorilla skull’s long, white teeth.

“As you wish.”

The spirit shoved Daiwen off the bed. Daiwen plummeted, shrieking and flailing. The rivers of lava geysered up into burning curtains all around them. The sheer force threw Daiwen back up.

They landed back-first with a solid thwack. Daiwen pushed up onto shaking hands and knees over polished wooden floorboards. A pair of button eyes met theirs from under a thick wooden pillar on the far side of the dark, airy chamber.

A soft squelching like boots in the mud floated down from above. A pale youth hung from the rafters in a harness of spider silk. Thick, white bands bound their arms over their head. Their bound legs bent up at the knee. A silk strand stretched taut between their bound wrists and ankles.

A brown spider the size of a human kept the youth’s legs apart with their abdomen. Four clawed forelimbs clung to a net of webbing. Their four clawed hindlimbs pulled the youth up and down their bulb-headed phallus.

An even larger, darker spider clung to the webbing on the other side of the youth. Two clawed hindlimbs held the youth’s head to their cunt while the second two groped the youth’s silk-bound chest.

Sixteen eyes met Daiwen’s. All the blood rushed out through the soles of Daiwen’s feet. Not even a magical punching doll could save them from the murderous, post-sex hunger of two giant spiders.

The black spider released the youth’s head.

“Daiwen?” Countess Gao slurred.

“Thank Dagong it’s you.”

“Who?”

“No one.”

Countess Gao’s eyes narrowed.

“Daiwen, you’re bleeding.”

“No, that’s just--”

It wasn’t just the spirit’s cum. Menstrual blood, thick with the scent of melted copper, dripped from Daiwen’s cunt to countess’s polished floor.


	28. Drawing Blood on the First Prick

Chapter 28: Drawing Blood on the First Prick (一針見血)

The two giant spiders lowered Countess Gao to the floor and freed her from the silk. Daiwen, dripping blood, looked for their underwear but to no avail. They must’ve come off when they’d fallen into the fiery lava chasm. 

Countess Gao held her arms out to either side. The spiders moved in a whirl of limbs as they did her hair, make-up, and dressing. The countess snapped her fingers toward Daiwen.

“Mother of fucking Souls, one of you do something about that--I can’t take my friend around the city if they’re just going to bleed on the landmarks. Gods, the plebs are gonna think a revolution’s started. Wait.”

The black spider froze in mid-robe. The brown spider froze in mid-web. Red trailed down Daiwen’s leg. 

Countess Gao only had narrowed eyes for Daiwen’s face.

“You’ve never teleported to Kailian City before have you?”

“No.”

“Excellent, continue. Well, even if you had, there’s still so much you have to see--Spidermoon’s only four days away!”

Impossible. Spidermoon was a mid-autumn harvest festival under the largest moon of the year. Daiwen’s father’s funeral fiasco had happened only weeks ago at the tail-end of spring.

“Countess, when did we last see each other?”

“Months ago--oh. You went into hiding. I guess you didn’t hear. Director Cai dropped the murder charges. Against you, that is. Turns out it was the security cat--never trust a cat.”

“What happened to Yishao?”

“Some priest unbound their ghost or something like that, sent them packing into the Void.”

The brown spider held out a new pair of silk underwear and a spider silk tampon on a makeshift tray of their fore-claws.

“Thank you, Mx…?”

The brown spider only shook their head. Countess Gao drew up the hood of her sunny yellow robes and stepped onto the black spider’s outstretched claws. The spider lifted the countess onto their back.

“What are you waiting for? Put on your panties and let’s hit the town!”

Daiwen and the countess rode out from the palatial estate and down its wooded hillside into a port city sprawling out from the coast over the Gui Sea (鬼海). Old wooden ships had been bound together into floating islands at the ends of long piers. The ships had even encroached on the city itself, many serving as the first floor of a many-tiered tower.

Daiwen held on for dear life to the brown spider’s silk harness as Countess Gao led them up the side of one tower to a rooftop breakfast shop. A silk awning as fine and translucent as gauze kept the drizzling rain off the round tables and potted bamboo. The underside of the awning depicted a huge blue spider holding up the full moon to the night sky for tiny villagers armed with drums, horns, and firecracker wheels on the black earth below.

The brown spider gingerly pried Daiwen off the harness and set them down on their feet. Both spiders crawled back down the side of the building while the countess grabbed a black and red lacquered table at the center of the shop.

“Daiwen, here.”

As Daiwen approached the raised platform at the center of the shop, other patrons shifted their seats away from it. Some left the shop entirely, storming down the creaky flight of stairs that wrapped around the outside of the tower. The countess was rude, but seemed far too dramatic for simple rudeness.

“We’ll have two of everything,” said the countess, handing her unopened menu to the server.

“I can’t pay for--”

“Daiwen, I own this city. It’s on the house. Right?”

“Yes, of course, Countess,” the server bowed.

The rest of the patrons, finished with wrapping their food, also left. Daiwen’s gut turned to lead and sank through the seat of their chair. Countess Gao was Kailian City’s version of a bandit lord.

“You’ve gotta try the tea--I have all the shops import the good stuff from Minkai (旻鍇).”

“Sorry, I’m not really hungry.”

“Oh, of course. I’ll just finish my breakfast and then we can get on with the tour.”

“Would you mind cancelling my order?”

Countess Gao snorted a laugh.

“I don’t cancel my own orders,” she tapped the length of her finger to the side of her painted jaw. “It’s all about face, my peasant friend. New order--you stick around until the festival, and I promise you: you’ll get educated as fuck.”

Daiwen was too polite and too scared to refuse her.

\--/--

Daiwen had thought those spider limbs had moved fast. They hadn’t yet toured with Countess biggest-fan-of-Spidermoon-ever Gao. The hours flew by in a whirlwind of Spidermoon-themed food, decor, and tourist attractions.

Daiwen told the countess they didn’t want any souvenirs--“I don’t have room for them in my backpack”--in the hopes of reducing her outright thievery. But Countess Gao merely snatched up the tourist kitsch for herself, tossing them into a spider silk tote that the black spider spun on the spot.

En route to hitting up some poor restaurant for dinner, the countess snapped her fingers. The spiders stopped in mid-step.

“We have to hit the theater first. They should have their Spidermoon special up and running by now.”

The actors wouldn’t have had a choice if the countess had ordered it. Which Daiwen had no doubt that she had. 

The Huatian Theater (化天戲院) was a tall, hulking building made of stacked ships hollowed out and painted red. Bowsprits of dragons, tigers, birds, and turtles reared up along its four corners. Shiny posters animated by magic depicted a white-faced sorcerer sending the moon crashing down from the sky and the blue spider growing to giant size to catch it.

Despite Daiwen’s hunger, period cramps, and growing dis-ease with the countess’s company, excitement bubbled up in their chest at the sight of the posters. They couldn’t help grinning back at the countess as she took their hand and led them inside for the show.

These performers really knew their opera. They sang like warbling songbirds, controlling their pitch with their noses. They danced with the grace of a river, their movements almost inhumanly fluid. It was such a shame that the theater was practically empty.  
If Daiwen had to guess, no one could actually afford a ticket. Even so, the acts were so entrancing that the intermission arrived in the blink of an eye.

Daiwen let out a breath they hadn’t realized they’d been holding. They slumped back against their cushioned seat. Countess Gao grinned at them over her half-eaten bag of popcorn.

“Amazing, right?”

Daiwen opened their mouth but a flutter of the red curtains caught their eye. The red-masked hero of the story cupped their hands like a blossoming flower around their mouth.

“A message from the Queen!”

The hero slipped back behind the curtains. They opened around a circular gate. The white-faced sorceror, now dressed in sunny yellow robes, stood at the center of the gate. Their body snaked into an S-bend with one elbow up, their hand behind their head, and their hip jutting against the curved wood. They smiled and sang:

“You say  
The price of my love’s not a price that you’re willing to pay  
Remember, despite your discontent, I’m your Queen…”

The Queen spun off from the gate in a flounce of flying yellow silk. She hopped and whirled around the stage as light as a flower in the wind:

“You’ll be back, soon you’ll see  
You’ll remember you belong to me

Oceans rise,” rectangular blue flags jumped up one-by-one in a line across the back of the stage.

“Empires fall,” red flags jumped up west to east in front of the blue.

“When push comes to shove  
I will send a fully armed battalion to remind you of my love!”

The popcorn bag fell from Countess Gao’s hands, spilling popped kernals under the seats.

The Queen hopped down the line of the red flags then hopped backward, singing:

“Da da dat dat da ya da!”

At the end of the line, she swept her arms around in a circle. The red flags flew up around her in a spiraling tower. The blue flags spun under her like the petals of an opened flower.

“You say our love is draining and you can’t go on  
My sweet, submissive subject  
Forever and ever and ever and--”

The countess grabbed Daiwen by the front of their jacket and dragged them out of the theater. Her eyes didn’t water until the sliding door of her bedroom slammed shut. She shuddered with the door on the end of its tracks and burst into tears, sinking to the floor.

Daiwen pulled Countess Gao’s arm over her shoulder and led her to the edge of the bed. The countess scooted into Daiwen’s lap and curled up against their chest. Daiwen held her gingerly and rubbed her back with the least amount of pressure that could pass for sympathy.

“Why? Why would they humiliate me like that? I’ve done nothing but make us the greatest city in Shenmen!”

“Who’s paying for all the greatness?”

“What difference does that make?” she snivelled and wiped her face, makeup smearing on her sleeve. “I need a refresher. Zhurong (珠榮)! Baoyun (寶雲)!”

The door slid open. The black and brown spiders scuttled into the room up onto the walls. Daiwen shuddered instinctively.

“Care to join us?”

“I’m on my period.”

Countess Gao snapped her fingers. Zhurong the black spider spun a white glove over one balled claw, sheathing their limb to the joint. Baoyun the brown spider spun a white sheath over their already erect phallus. Well, they’d never had period sex before.

The spiders spun a gauzy, protective sheet over the bed while Daiwen and the countess stripped. Countess Gao knelt on the covered bed and pulled Daiwen up on their knees in front of her. The spiders bound Daiwen and countess chest to chest and thigh to thigh, clits brushing.

The spiders pulled Daiwen’s arms straight down behind their back, binding them tight over the elbows and the wrists. They stretched a line of knotted silk rope taut between the lips of their reddened slit, pulling the line through Countess Gao’s as well. 

Baoyun pushed Daiwen the countess down hard on their knees. Zhurong dragged the knotted line back and forth between their cunts, the knots knocking in their lips. 

Daiwen’s holes twitched. They whimpered and stained the rope red between their legs. Countess Gao sucked and moaned into their neck, bucking and grinding against them.

“Fuck us! Fuck us!” she whined.

“Oh please! Please!” Daiwen begged, grinding harder into the countess’s cunt.

The spiders shoved the humans sidewise onto the bed. Baoyun spread the countess’s legs and plowed into her asshole. Zhurong spread Daiwen’s. Their clawed fist tore Daiwen’s walls apart with a plunging squelch.

Daiwen grunted and thrashed, but the silk kept their writhing body trapped against the countess’s. The deeper the spiders railed them, the harder the cunts rubbed.

Countess Gao squealed, her back arching. Her quivering body went rigid against Daiwen’s, drawing their shared ropes taut. The ropes flattened Daiwen against them. Her vibrations wracked onto Daiwen’s clit.

Zhurong’s fist knocked against the inner mouth of Daiwen’s blooded womb. Their shaft squeezed and squelched down on the spider’s thick limb, red spluttering between their swollen lips. Daiwen screamed, bucking like the cabaret bulls into the countess. Their helpless spams smeared both their crotches in red.

The spiders pulled out from the humans’s holes. Daiwen and Countess Gao breathed hard, their heaving chests rubbing at the nipples. Zhurong’s glove was completely red. Baoyun was still erect.

The spiders scuttled to opposite sides of the bed, Zhurong looming over the countess and Baoyun over Daiwen. Zhurong dropped their glove to the ground with a wet smack. Baoyun spun a new sheath for their bulbed phallus. 

Together, the spiders picked the panting humans up by the hips. They climbed thick web ropes up to the rafters and dangled the humans over the bed by thick, sticky ropes around their thighs.

A cool draft blew over Daiwen’s exposed holes. Daiwen gulped. The countess smiled reassuringly.

“They’re gonna break us.”

Daiwen whined through their nose and met the countess’s teasing mouth with a deep, sucking kiss.


	29. To Spit the Blood

Chapter 29: To Spit the Blood (血口噴人)

The bedroom door slammed open. Daiwen and Countess Gao jerked awake in a naked tangle of limbs and bloody but waterproof sheets. Zhurong and Baoyun stood in the doorway. Their spider bodies twisted and shrank, their legs shrivelling and melding into human form, Zhurong in black silk and metal plate armor and Baoyun in white.

“Why the fuck am I awake before noon?” the countess growled. “And didn’t I tell you to keep to spider form until after the holiday?”

“Apologies, Countess,” they bowed together, “but there’s been a murder.”

“The watch’ll handle it.”

“Apologies, Countess, but you’re the prime suspect.”

The murder victim was an actor from the Huatian Theater, the one who’d played the evil sorcerer and the Queen. Word on the street was, the actor had been thrown, burning alive, from a window. 

“Fuck!”

Of course everyone suspected the countess had ordered it. Even Daiwen might’ve suspected it if they hadn’t spent the entire night with her, but the real killer was still out there. Daiwen got up from the sticky sheets.

“Could I get directions to the bathroom?”

“I’d be happy to escort you,” said Baoyun.

“Daiwen, what are you--oh! That’s right! You’re a murder investigator.”

“Not professionally, but I--”

“You’ve got to prove it wasn’t me--that’s an order.”

“I’ll do everything I can to find the real the killer,” they promised with their politest smile, “but I could use any help you had to offer.”

“Oh! Oh! Zhurong, the charm!”

Zhurong pulled a fine silver chain out from under the neck of their armor. A small black stone carved into a spider dangled from the chain. Zhurong pressed it into Daiwen’s palm.

“That’s my official crest. You show that to anyone in town and they’ll just give you anything.”

“Great,” they smiled, “thanks…”

That was without a doubt the fastest way to stir up a revolution, but Daiwen put it on just in case.

\--/--

Baoyun snuck Daiwen out from the Gao estate through an underground tunnel to avoid the growing crowd of protesters who rattled the gates demanding the countess turn herself in to the watch. The watch had roped off the murder site, a large black smear under a line of bird bowsprits carved in flight. A simple suit of red silk laid out perfectly flat over the wet soot as though someone had used the paved street as an ironing board.

A stern-faced watcher in a sharp, olive-green uniform stepped between Daiwen and the orange rope. Their crooked nose had seen more than one break, and a thick white line scarred the tawny skin of their neck.

“The theater is currently off-limits to civilians.”

Daiwen hooked the silver chain with their thumb and pulled the spider charm from the neckline of their jacket.

“I’ve been hired as a private investigator.”

The watcher quirked a thick eyebrow.

“She paying you?”

Mother of fucking Souls. She wasn’t. The countess had expected Daiwen to steal payment from the city in her name just like everything else.

“I’m not doing it for her. Please just let me do my job.”

“Alright,” said the watcher, setting their hands on their hips. “I’m Captain Hao (煌), he/him. Welcome to the force, Mx…?”

“Just Daiwen’s fine.”

Captain Hao lifted the rope to let ‘just Daiwen’ duck into the crime scene. Despite the violent, horrific nature of the murder, there was no chill in the air or any other sign of a lingering ghost. Whatever had happened had destroyed the victim, Baling (靶靈), in body and soul.

Which meant necromancy. Daiwen immediately suspected the Whispering Way. The spirit gates had continuously forced Daiwen to cross paths with the horrors they left in their wake. Daiwen couldn’t blame them. This had to stop.

“Got anything?”

Daiwen jumped at the voice by their ear. Captain Hao had crouched beside them, one knee to the ground.

“Just a hunch.”

“Alright. You want in on the questioning?” he jerked his chin toward the theater.

“The other actors are still here? They didn’t go home?”

“They board above the theater.”

As extravagant as the building and its resources were, none of them belonged to the dirt-poor acting troupe. This was Countess Gao’s playground. They were literally just living in it.

The period wasn’t the only thing roiling Daiwen’s gut.

Daiwen followed the captain of the watch through a simple metal backdoor into the theater. The cramped backstage quarters immediately reminded Daiwen of the cabaret. They smiled quietly behind the captain as they entered a narrow, private dressing room.

Vibrant fabrics burst like flowers out from over-stuffed shelves and a clothing rack along the full length of one wall. They draped over the mirror of a vanity whose tabletop was a warzone of hair and makeup equipment. Two threadbare sofas and a rickety tea table had been crammed against the back wall.

An actor huddled on one couch over a cup of steaming tea. Though they wore only a simple brown shirt and pants, their skin had already been painted a ghostly white. Their long, shining black hair rippled like water as they faced Daiwen and the captain.

Daiwen’s breath caught in their throat. Despite the fear that dulled the actor’s monolid black eyes, their smooth, even face seemed to glow in the dim light. The actor’s nostrils flared. Their gaze dropped straight down between Daiwen’s legs.

Daiwen flushed, suddenly hyper-aware of the smell of melted copper that lingered on their clothes and the skin of their legs. The captain, completely oblivious, sat down on the opposite couch. He scooted as far as he could to make room for Daiwen, but Daiwen’s near leg propped up onto his, forcing one lip of their bloody cunt into the air. They didn’t dare look up off the tea table.

“--we’ll try to keep this quick, Ruiwen (瑞溫). You were the one who found the body?”

“The ashes,” they corrected quietly, their voice stretched as taut as a wire. “Then I sent the missive to the watch.”

“And the whole goddamn city?”

“You don’t believe she was involved?”

“That has yet to be proven, but if she’s not, the rumors are only gonna make it easier for the killer to get away.”

“Are your costumes fireproof?” Daiwen piped up without raising their eyes.

“N-no. Baling, ahm, must’ve been hit with a very specific, very...potent spell.”

In their hyper-aware state, Daiwen felt the captain’s narrowed gaze bounce between them and the actor.

“I’m...gonna go out and have a smoke.”

The door’s closing squeak only winched the taut silence of the dressing room tighter. Daiwen’s breath turned shallow in the hot, prickling air.

“Can you tell me about last night?” they croaked.

“Yes, yes, of course.”

Ruiwen’s room was right below Baling’s. They’d awoken to dull thumps from above and assumed Baling was having sex. Right up until Baling fell burning and screaming past their window.

Ruiwen had run down in shock to check on their friend, but by the time they’d reached Baling, the spell had already consumed their entire body. They ran back inside to warn the others, but everyone was already awake thanks to the scream.

“No one saw the murderer--thanks to magic, I’m sure.”

“Can you take me to Baling’s room?”

Ruiwen set their untouched tea on the table and climbed catlike over the arm of their sofa and onto their feet. The fluid grace caught Daiwen by surprise and their eyes met Ruiwen’s before they could stop themself. Ruiwen’s eyes dilated. Daiwen and the actor looked away.

Daiwen followed them head down up a creaky spiral staircase to Baling’s room. Ruiwen stepped aside to let them in first. The door and its lock were intact. The worn futon, desk, and closet were a mess of sheets, stationary, and clothes, but nothing out of ordinary clutter. Heavy black curtains draped over the window--open but intact.

Daiwen sighed as the curtains fell back into place. Nothing to see here. Maybe the Baling and the murderer really had been having sex--

The door squeaked shut. Ruiwen padded as soundlessly as a ghost to the futon, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Despite their better judgment, Daiwen sat down beside them. The actor’s breath shortened as well.

“Is there anyone here who might’ve wanted to hurt Baling?” asked Daiwen, raising their eyes from Ruiwen’s white-painted collarbone to their painted profile.

“N-no, no one. We’re family, like family.”

“Look at me.”

Ruiwen did, nostrils flaring.

“I’m on my period,” said Daiwen.

“I know,” they rasped.

“You still…?”

“May I? May I?”

Daiwen shrugged off their jacket. They hitched their sheath over their new underwear and pulled it up off their body. The scent of melted copper filled the room.

Ruiwen gave Countess Gao’s black spider a sharp glare but pulled off their shirt nonetheless. They wrapped an arm around Daiwen’s silk-booted calf and knelt between their legs.

“Wait! Wait! That’ll be so messy--”

“I don’t care. I just want a taste.”

Daiwen swallowed hard but leaned back on their elbows. Ruiwen lifted their legs by the ankles, sliding off their underwear. While they held Daiwen up and exposed, they pulled out their tampon. A dark red drop plinked to the floor like a single drop of rain.

Daiwen whimpered knowing full well it wouldn’t be the last. Ruiwen only pushed Daiwen’s knees down against their chest, pinning them to the futon, and started to suck.

Daiwen shuddered and gasped under their tongue, blood forgotten. Ruiwen shifted their forearm down across the back of Daiwen’s thighs. The actor’s free hand rubbed circles into Daiwen clit as they buried their face in Daiwen’s blooded cunt.

Daiwen’s heels kicked and flailed helplessly over Ruiwen’s head. Daiwen’s hands seized at the bedsheets. Their back arched, breasts crushing against their own knees, their head lolling back over their shoulders. Daiwen groaned like a whipped ox.

Ruiwen raised their red-painted face off Daiwen’s spasming cunt. They closed their eyes and licked the blood off their flushed lips and long teeth. Only when Ruiwen had set their legs back down did Daiwen realize that the actor had licked their cunt as clean as a rice bowl.

Daiwen, face flaming to the tips of their ears, dressed as quickly as they could before they started bleeding all over the victim’s bedroom. 

Ruiwen pulled a towel from the victim’s closet and wiped down the blood they couldn’t reach with their tongue. The actor stayed on the floor, kneeling beside Daiwen. Miraculously, they hadn’t smeared a single spot of their ghostly white paint.

“Why do you work for her?”

“I don’t. I’m not even getting paid for this.”

“Pro-bono,” Ruiwen half-smiled, resting their elbows on Daiwen’s knee. “That’s good to hear because our dear countess is nearly as rotten as the old Countex Gao.”

“Her parent?”

“Ahm, forebearer.”

A founding forebearer, of sorts. Nearly a thousand years ago, Gao was the sorcerer to a beloved king. But the bandits of Kailian City raided the kingdom and killed half the people. The king chose to rebuild without retribution.

Gao, furious, turned to necromancy. They raised an army of the dead and marched on Kailian City. The bandits didn’t stand a chance against the deathless warriors. Gao became the city’s first Countex and continued to amass power.

“They called Countex Gao ‘the Godlich.’”

Daiwen’s throat choked their voice to a hoarse whisper.

“What happened to them?”

“I don’t know. One day, around Spidermoon, they just vanished. Nobody knew what happened.”

Vanished, maybe. Or gone to sleep.


	30. Blood Thicker Than Water

Chapter 30: Blood Thicker Than Water (血濃於水)

Daiwen left Ruiwen in the hall and stepped out the backdoor to join Captain Hao ‘for a smoke.’ The captain didn’t look up. He leaned over the iron rail, the lit end of his cigarette a hair’s breadth from the pouring rain. The cold curtains of falling rain trapped his smoke with him under the metal awning.

The heavy, bitter fumes pushed Daiwen over the edge. They seized the iron rail and retched into the rain. The captain spat out his cigarette.

“Daiwen, my god, what happened back there?” he asked, rubbing their back like a wasted friend’s. “Do you need me to make an arrest?”

Daiwen clutched his forearm and shook their head. They didn’t yet trust themself to open their mouth.

The tension eased from the muscles of his forearm, but he stayed by their side, his hand a comforting weight on their back.

“Sorry, Daiwen. I heard a noise, but it didn’t sound like a bad noise, so--”

“It wasn’t,” they squeaked, flushed to the tips of their ears, “only less helpful and more confusing than I would’ve liked.”

Captain Hao snorted a laugh.

“That’s the least surprising thing I’ve heard all morning.”

Daiwen laughed weakly and straightened up off the rail. The rain and completely washed away their sick. The crime scene ashes couldn’t have fared any better.

The captain set his hands on his narrow hips.

“Ready to interview the rest of the actors?”

“Let’s go.”

They followed Ruiwen to Huatian Theater’s green room, a small, square space full of antique hardwood furniture with more scratches than a cat post. Thick black curtains hung over the open windows, letting in a soft murmur of rain.

Four actors occupied a heavy wooden couch facing the door. One dressed in black with a shaved head perched on the western arm of the couch, an elbow resting on their knee. One dressed in green with their hair in long pigtails perched on the eastern arm, eating candied strawberries off a wooden skewer. One wearing wire-rimmed spectacles and dressed in blue stood straight as an arrow behind the couch’s wooden backboard. The one seated legs crossed, fingers steepled, at the center of the couch kept their bangs and the edges of their haircut razor-sharp over their shoulders. Their suit was a dark pink.

All four of the actors, five counting Ruiwen, had already applied their ghostly white paint. All their nostrils flared. Their eyes pierced right through Daiwen.

Captain Hao looked from Daiwen to the actors and back. He opened his mouth, but the actor in pink rocked up from the cushion-less couch onto their feet. They smiled and glided ghostlike across the room, stealing the breath from both Daiwen and the captain’s lungs.

“Captain Hao and...company, thank you so much for coming to our aid in this our time of need. I am Actress and Director Liu (瀏). A pleasure to meet you both.”

“Right,” said the captain.

“A pleasure. I’m Daiwen, they/them.”

“Daiwen, what a lovely name,” Director Liu murmured sweetly over the nothings of the falling rain.

She held out her hand for Daiwen’s, who gave theirs without a second of thought. The director led Daiwen to the hard wooden couch across from hers. Ruiwen and the captain sat on either side of Daiwen. Director Liu returned to her seat, crossing one long leg over the other, and introduced the others.

The shaved actor in black was Furuan (富碝), they/them. The pigtailed actor in green was Aigen (愛亙), they/them. And the spectacle-sporting actress in blue was Meiri (美日).

All of them had eyes only for Daiwen and the red hiding between their legs. Their stares only pierced further through their thin spider silk the longer Captain Hao questioned them.

Daiwen, smelling the melted copper on themself, crossed their legs. They squeezed them tighter and tighter and--

A sharp, visceral shock jolted up from their cunt to their core. Blood spurted onto the silk inside them. Ruiwen jumped in their seat, grunting as though punched. The actors across the tea table jerked straight up. Director Liu trailed off mid-answer.

“Sorry Captain,” she smiled, “but could I trouble you to step outside? We need a word with Daiwen in private.”

“Daiwen--?”

“I’ll be fine,” they hoped, “and it won’t take long.”

Captain Hao patted their shoulder with a skeptical nod at the actors, but he did indeed leave the room. The door creaked shut, trapping Daiwen under a heavy, skin-prickling silence. Their body broke into a fine sheen of sweat, only deepening their scent.

“Is it so obvious that I have my period?” they squeaked.

“Only to us actors,” the director chuckled, her laugh doing nothing to break the room’s lung-crushing tension.

“And you all…,” Daiwen lowered their gaze to their lap.

“Yes,” Furuan growled.

“It’s said that the moon’s blood brings health and long life to those who partake,” said Meiri.

“I’m just in it for the sex,” said Aigen, flinging their empty wooden skewer into a metal bin.

“Would you mind humoring us?” asked the director. “We would, of course, be more than happy to pay for your service.”

Ruiwen, knowing full well that Countess Gao had put Daiwen in the position of work-free-or-steal, gave them the most unhelpful wink.

“...how much?”

“I imagine we only have an hour before Captain Hao comes to investigate, so how does fifty gold per person sound?”

Daiwen did their best not to choke on their own spit.

“Sixty,” they rasped.

“Sixty it is.” 

Director Liu held her hand out across the tea table. Daiwen, grinning wryly, leaned forward and took the director’s long, white fingers into their mouth. They tasted not of makeup but flesh.

Director Liu growled and loosened her tie. The actors jumped off the couch and stripped. Ruiwen pulled the spider silk off Daiwen, who tugged the director onto the tea table by the fingers between their teeth. Director Liu removed her shirt and jacket while Daiwen helped remove her suit pants and panties.

Daiwen grunted as Ruiwen pulled the spider silk out from their cunt. Furuan stalked behind Daiwen and placed a calloused hand on their back. They bent Daiwen forward at the hip until their mouth found the director’s dick. 

Furuan leaned over Daiwen as Daiwen sucked, Furuan’s erection hot in the cleft of Daiwen’s ass and their chest solid over Daiwen’s back.

“Spread’em,” they growled into Daiwen’s ear.

Daiwen shivered and stepped their feet apart. It wasn’t wide enough for Furuan. They hooked their arms around Daiwen’s thighs and hoisted them to either side of Furuan’s hips. They walked their dick straight into Daiwen’s bloody cunt.

Daiwen squealed on Director Liu’s dick, arms flailing as Furuan pounded the balance out of them. Meiri caught their arms from behind the director.

Meiri knelt and set Daiwen’s arms on her shoulders. Daiwen laced their fingers behind her head. Meiri buried her face in the director’s ass.

Aigen crawled under Daiwen’s stretched out torso. They giggled and sucked Daiwen’s tit, rubbing their own clit. Daiwen whimpered and squirmed, their body turning to a bridge of trembling flesh as they edged closer and closer. 

Aigen teased Daiwen’s nipple between their teeth and straightened one leg under them. Their heel ground into the front of Daiwen’s stuffed cunt.

At the sudden resistance from Aigen’s leg, Furuan only rammed Daiwen harder. Their cunt crushed against Aigen’s heel. Daiwen bucked and thrashed, the director’s cock muffling their scream.

Furuan lowered Daiwen’s trembling legs and pulled out, their cock sheathed in blood. Aigen squealed and rolled out from under Daiwen. They dug their fingers into Furuan’s ass and swallowed their cock to the bloody hilt.

The head of a second dick bumped against Daiwen’s dripping lips. Ruiwen. The actor’s cock didn’t give Daiwen’s cunt a single second of rest. They pushed their dick into Daiwen’s raw, stretched shaft. 

Daiwen’s walls clenched and convulsed again and again until Daiwen gurgled and choked on Director Liu’s dick, clear fluid leaking from their face.

Ruiwen pulled out and joined Furuan and Aigen. Ruiwen placed their fingertips on Furuan’s shoulders, guiding them to their knees. As Furuan sucked their blooded dick, Aigen wrapped their legs around Ruiwen’s calf and humped them like a dog.

Director Liu eased Daiwen’s head and throat off her dick. Meiri went around behind Daiwen and hooked their arms under Daiwen’s armpits. The director picked them up under the thighs and slid her dick inside Daiwen’s red hole.

Daiwen’s battered cunt couldn’t take another merciless pounding. Daiwen screamed as their walls spasmed and seized down the director’s dick. Their back bowed in a bridge from Director Liu’s dick to Meiri’s breasts. Meiri met Daiwen’s eyes, nearly drooling onto their tortured face.

The director finally pulled out from Daiwen, keeping hold of their hips. Director Liu and Meiri lowered Daiwen on their back onto the tea table. Meiri walked back to the director’s side and set their spectacles on the wooden seat of the couch.

Director Liu grinned at Daiwen and kneeled between their legs. Meiri crawled under her and sucked her cock. The director grabbed Daiwen’s wrists and pinned them to the edge of the table.

Daiwen was already a quivering heap before the director lowered her tongue to their cunt. Daiwen grunted and squealed like a pig. They bucked senselessly, only rubbing harder into the director’s tongue. Their fingers scratched and grasped at the air on either side of Director Liu’s head. Their heels kicked and scuffed the floor, legs shaking uncontrollably.

Daiwen screamed and screamed until their voice gave out and their eyes rolled to the back of their head.

\--/--

“--Daiwen? Daiwen?”

They sat straight up on the wooden couch, bonking their forehaed against Captain Hao’s.

“Ow,” both winced, “sorry.”

The captain sat down beside them. 

Thankfully, the actors had dressed Daiwen while dressing themselves and cleaning, apparently. They occupied the exact same positions across from Daiwen and the captain as they had earlier, only now Ruiwen leaned their elbows on the couch’s backboard beside Meiri. Their makeup was immaculate.

Director Liu smiled over her steepled fingers.

“Now that we’re all here and conscious, here’s the plan:”

It was clear that no one knew anything about the killer, so their ‘best bet’ was to provoke Countess Gao again, tonight, and see if the killer would strike back. Only this time, they wouldn’t be caught unaware.

“Wait--provoke the countess how?” asked the captain.

“With a show, of course. A free one.”

The actors would take to the streets with a special performance outside the theater for all to see. It would not be subtle.

“After all, it’s our sacred duty as artists to speak truth to power.”

“I’m not sure--”

The director cut him off with a fluid wave of her hand.

“All I ask of our watch is to set plainclothes guards amongst the audience for our safety.”

Captain Hao pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I’m not gonna be able to talk you out of this, am I?”

“Not a chance.”

“Alright. Fine. But the watch’ll be brainstorming other options.”

“Delightful. See you tonight at eight. If no sabotage or worse occurs, I’d very much like to see you both after the show.”

“Great. Thanks,” he said, rising from the couch.

Daiwen flushed and clutched at his sleeve. He stopped with his ear at whispering level.

“I can’t move my legs.”

And suddenly Daiwen wasn’t the only one red in the face. Captain Hao slipped their useless legs over his arm and picked them up off the couch.

“Daiwen, I think you forgot something,” said Director Liu.

She jerked her chin Ruiwen, who walked around the couch to place a heavy, clinking pouch in Daiwen’s hands. Daiwen gave the actors a thumbs up and stuffed the gold into their dollpack.

Captain Hao carried Daiwen back out under the metal awning. The rain had thinned to a drizzle, releasing the last of his smoke into the chill, autumn air.

“Where do you need to go?”

The logical answer was ‘back to the Gao estate to make a report,’ but Daiwen couldn’t stomach the sight of their ‘employer’ right now. They definitely had enough money to afford a room at an inn, but they wouldn’t be able to make any progress on the investigation from there.

They turned to face the captain, their nose nearly brushing his.

“Take me to the station, please.”

“Well, if you’re up to working--”

“I am.”

Without another word, Captain Hao ducked his head and carried Daiwen out into the rain-gray mist over the city streets.


	31. Scattered Ashes, Broken Smoke

Chapter 31: Scattered Ashes, Broken Smoke (灰飛煙滅)

From what Daiwen and Captain Hao could gather from the incredibly unhelpful statements, the actors were either lying or hiding something, which was still considered lying to the watch. The forensics report on those ashes were about as helpful. Whatever spell had taken out Baling was unlike any of the fire spells in the database. They needed more information to make any progress on the case.

And Director Liu knew it. That had to be why she’d arranged a performance tonight--a whole song and dance just to get Daiwen and Captain Hao backstage. The case couldn’t afford for them to refuse her. If the killer really did strike again--

“Nah,” said Captain Hao, staring out the single, rain-pelted office window. “A killer with access to spells that arcane wouldn’t be stupid enough to take the bait.”

“You don’t think…”

“Think what?”

He flopped down in his wheely office chair, swivelling around to face Daiwen. They sat straight up against the arm of his tarp couch with their legs propped up on the cushions.

“Would the actors have staged a killing just to rile up the city against Countess Gao?”

The captain laced his fingers under his chin, swivelling thoughtfully.

“That is, unfortunately, a lot likelier.”

Kailian City’s taxes and the countess’s spending always hit the high mark around Spidermoon. This year was as bad as ever, worse adjusting for inflation. Winter was coming, and the people had just gotten robbed of seventy percent of their resources.

“Yeah, ok, we’ve definitely gotta be at that show just to make sure they don’t start a riot.”

The actors had picked a perfect night for an outdoor show. The rain stopped around seven. By seven thirty, the clouds had drifted out of town, stripping the sky to a starless, velvety black. It wasn’t until the walk back to the theater that Daiwen realized the city was so bright it had become its own star.

Daiwen and Captain Hao sent in two groups of watchers to that night at the opera. The first kept their uniforms on and stood, unmistakably visible, under the streetlamps on all the routes toward the Huatian Theater. They’d been given strict orders to follow any rioting mob but not to engage unless the mob threatened violence.

The second group of watchers wore plainclothes. They stood with the rest of the crowd in the streets and on the balconies around the makeshift stage outside the theater. The wooden platform was no bigger than the floor of a room for two. A rectangle of patched, threadbare curtains cut the space in half. 

Daiwen and Captain Hao stood with the second group at the foot of the platform. The captain wore a fitted, scarlet red pants suit over a scarlet red mesh shirt that laid flat against the sharp cut of his torso. His eyes caught theirs, and Daiwen flushed to a matching red. 

They buried their forehead against the back of his arm, hiding their face. The captain hooked his arm through theirs and pulled it snug to his side where they couldn’t hide. He shook his head even as the slightest curve played at the corners of his mouth.

“Are you checking me out?”

“Sorry. Nice suit.”

“You’re--”

The curtains squeaked open to the five actors with their backs to the crowd. They stood in a wide V with Director Liu in bright, peach pink (桃紅) at the centerpoint. Meiri stood in rich, metallic blue to her right. The shaved Furuan stood in velvet black at Meiri’s right. The pigtailed Aigen stood in spring green on the director’s left. Ruiwen, now in deep, vermilion red, stood to Aigen’s left.

Director Liu spun around like a leaf in water to face the audience, her arms folded across her body, hidden behind her long sleeves. She warbled like a songbird:

“Kailian City runs independently  
But our countess keeps shittin’ on us endlessly.”

She spread her arms out to either side, her sleeves falling open like wings.

“Countess Gao turns around, runs a spending spree  
She ain’t ever gonna set her descendants free!”

The director turned another leaf-on-the-water circle with opened arms, opened wings.

Meiri, Furuan, Aigen, and Ruiwen looked over their shoulders with a hand cupped around their mouths.

Director Liu stopped facing the crowd. She lunged forward, one arm over her head and the other jabbing straight ahead.

“Don’t be shocked when your hist’ry book mentions me.”

The arm over her head snapped forward. A leather sling swung from her hand.

Meiri, Furuan, and Aigen hopped to face the audience. Each spun a leather sling in one hand. They sang together: 

"Yo, I’m just like my city  
Yonggan, scrappy and hungry (勇敢)  
It’s time to take a shot!”

Director Liu, Furuan, Aigen, and Ruiwen hopped backward. Meiri hopped forward, swinging:

“I dream of life without a monarchy  
The city unrest will lead to wu zhengfu ji-ji (無政府雞雞)  
Ji-ji? How you say, how you say, wu zhengfu zhuyi? (無政府主義)  
When I fight, I make the other side panicky  
With my—”

Meiri, Director Liu, Furuan, and Aigen snapped their slings forward. Blue, pink, black, and green ribbons burst open from the leather pocket:

“Shot!”

Meiri hopped back into line. Furuan hopped forward, growling:

“Wo shige caifeng de xuetu   
Wo gen zhexie sha gemen de guanxi xiang shi tu   
Wo jiaru geming shi wei gaishan wo de qiantu   
Wangzhe shangliu jiru zong haoguo feng fengbu-bu   
Wo yao lai he yi--” 

(我是個裁縫的學徒  
我跟這些傻哥們的關係像師徒  
我加入革命是為 改善我的前途  
往著上流擠入 總好過縫縫補補  
我要來喝一)

The four colors burst from the slings.

“Shot!”

Furuan hopped back. Aigen hopped forward, pigtails bouncing:

“But we’ll never be truly free  
Until them the poorest have the same rights as you and me  
Have another—”

The colors exploded over the crowd, who roared with the actors:

“Shot!”

Aigen hopped back. Ruiwen hopped forward and landed in a crouch. They placed a finger to their painted lips:

“I’m with you, but the situation is fraught  
If you talk, you’re gonna get shot!”

Ruiwen snapped their sling. Blood red ribbons burst from the leather pocket.

Director Liu, however, hopped back to the front and center. Her free hand waved dismissively, her long, pink sleeve dancing with her song:

“Ruiwen, check what we got  
Mistress Meiri, hard rock like a headlock  
Furuan, I think your pants look hot  
Aigen, I like you a lot.”

Meiri, Furuan, Aigen, and Ruiwen hopped in close together behind Director Liu. Meiri and Furuan squatted in front. Aigen and Ruiwen leaned back to back, arms crossed.

Director Liu walked a circle around their conspiratory huddle. She cupped her hands around her mouth. Her whispered song grew stronger with every word:

“Zhe shi zai ganma zheli jujile yiqun qi ba   
Ba shisu hong chengyi disui wa shui dou bupa   
Yiqun kuangre geming fenzi fei nu zhuyi jiefang nuli renshi   
Gei wo ange junzhi gen wo shuo-shuo danyao ku de weizhi!” 

(這是在幹嘛 這裡聚集了一群奇耙  
把世俗轟成一地碎瓦 誰都不怕  
一群狂熱革命份子廢奴主義解放奴隸人士  
給我安個軍職 跟我說說彈藥庫的位置!)

The five actors roared and jumped to the edge of the stage:

“Yo, I’m just like my city  
Yonggan, scrappy and hungry  
And I’m not throwing away my shot!”

Aigen leapt off the stage into the crowd. They whooped and caught Aigen up on their shoulders. The actor waved up their arms:

“Ev’rybody sing:  
Whoa, whoa, whoa!”

The audience, Daiwen, and even the captain sang back:

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!"

Like a bird in flight, Aigen flung down their arms and stepped straight up on the shoulders of the crowd”

“Rise up!”

Meiri, Furuan, and Ruiwen leapt down off the stage. Unlike Aigen, they clapped their hands over their heads. The crowd parted around them. The three actors strode out toward the street, singing:

“We’re gonna rise up!   
Time to take a shot!"

Aigen flung their arm forward, pointing after them:

“Not throwin’ away—-”

The crowd surged out after the actors, roaring with them:

“Not throwin’ away my shot!”

Only Daiwen, the captain, and the director remained. Director Liu hopped to a seat at the edge of the stage, crossing one leg over the other. She steepled her fingers under a razor-sharp grin.

“All according to plan. Now, if you’d be so kind as to help me move this back inside, we can find somewhere more private to talk about why you’re really here.”

“I guess,” Daiwen and Captain Hao shrugged helplessly.

Fortunately, the wooden platform came with retractable wheels. They wheeled the stage through a set of secret side doors to a storage room of large, painted setpieces. Not a second after Daiwen and the captain parked the stage, Director Liu waved at them to follow her.

They snuck down the narrow hall to a narrow wooden door right beside the staircase to the actor’s living quarters. Director Liu waved the captain in first, then Daiwen.

Two sets of metal shelves took up opposite walls and most of the space of the dark, dusty broom closet. Daiwen and Captain Hao, with his back to the far wall, had to stand single file to avoid knocking into the shelves and their tightly packed cleaning equipment. 

Then the director stepped into the closet.

Daiwen stepped in to make room for her, resulting in negative room for themself. They fell right into the captain, whose back hit the wall. He caught Daiwen against his chest, burning hot through the thin mesh.

Daiwen pushed up off his shoulders without meeting his eyes. They turned to face the director. Their chest brushed hers. Director Liu’s nipples hardened against her skin. Daiwen bit back a whimper, flushed to the tips of their ears.

“Could we go somewhere, anywhere else?”

“If we could, we would, but I’m afraid that we can’t,” she whispered.

“Why is that, exactly?” asked the captain, a strain in his hushed voice.

“Because, my dear captain, the murder was an inside job, and I have no idea which one of my stars is responsible.”

Director Liu had given her stars strict orders to lead the protestors to the Gao Estate and keep up the protest all through the night. The killer would, of course, realize the ploy was pointless and sneak back to the theater.

“Therefore, the first one back must be the killer.”

“What if no one comes back early?” asked Daiwen.

“Then...I’ll take you both out to dinner as thanks for your time.”

Captain Hao muttered a curse over Daiwen’s head. Director Liu had trapped them in this closet for what looked to be the entire night.

“Great, thanks, I’m allergic to shellfish.”

“Consider it noted, Captain.”

The three stood there, packed to back, in the dark, dusty closet. The minutes dragged to hours and the hours dragged to eternity. Daiwen’s feet ached. Their full body ached. Their brain ached. They let out a long, hushed sigh and leaned against the shelves.

Buckets and bottles clanked. A thick, fuzzy cloud billowed up around their elbow. Daiwen’s nose tickled. The captain sneezed. The director sneezed. Before Daiwen could get their hand past the shelf and over their nose, they sneezed.

A fresh gout of blood soaked the silk between their legs. Director Liu went as rigid as a corpse. Their eyes locked on Daiwen’s, dilating. Daiwen’s breath hitched.

“Hey, is everything--”

“Turn around,” the director breathed into Daiwen’s ear, drowning out all other sound.

Daiwen turned, bracing their hands against the wall on either side of Captain Hao’s confused face. Daiwen flushed and burned as red as his suit.

“Please, close your eyes.”

Instead, his confused gaze dropped down to Director Liu on her knees, pulling the silk out from between Daiwen’s legs. The smell of melted copper filled the closet. Daiwen whimpered and lowered their head.

The closet was so packed that their forehead bumped against the captain’s solid chest. It continued to bump him as Daiwen twitched and squirmed on the director’s tongue. But just before Daiwen battered him with a shuddering orgasm, Director Liu pulled back.

“I need more. I need you open. Captain, can you hold them?”

Daiwen raised their head off his chest. Captain Hao’s eyes were as lidded as their own. He panted through the wall of his teeth.

“Yes.”

Daiwen brushed their lips against his throat and turned their back to him. His erection laid like a knife through the thin fabric over their ass. Captain Hao’s fingers dug into the soft flesh of their thighs. He lifted their bent legs, spreading their knees apart.

The director licked her bloody lips and started to suck. Daiwen leaned back hard against the captain. They lifted their elbows to hold onto his shoulders over their head for dear life. Captain Hao dropped his head, cursing into the back of their neck as they writhed in his arms.

Jolting pleasure spasmed up their cunt, forcing their back to arch and their toes to curl. Daiwen’s knees banged the shelves to either side, jumping the buckets.

A door squeaked from down the hall. But the director’s tongue kept licking. Daiwen clapped their hands over their mouth to hold back the scream in their throat.

Without their hands to brace them against something, anything, Daiwen bucked wild. Their shoulder blades banged into Captain Hao’s chest. Their head dropped back onto his shoulder, their choked grunts tickling his ear. 

Director Liu didn’t stop until they’d licked Daiwen’s cunt clean. Daiwen’s body shuddered and rattled into the captain until they went as rigid as the director at the scent of blood. They slumped, a quivering heap in Captain Hao’s arms.

“The door, the door,” they croaked.

Director Liu pushed the closet door open to the slightest crack. The three were just in time to catch a ghostly white hand slipping out through the closing back door.


	32. Burned Fingers Stir the Fire

Chapter 32: Burned Fingers Stir the Fire (惹火燒身)

Daiwen, Captain Hao, and Director Liu followed the suspect from a two-block distance under the light of the waxing moon. The actor, shrouded in black from head to toe, led them to a sprawling slum along the dockside. They watched from behind the hull of a ground floor ship as the actor entered a foreclosed restaurant/ship on the water.

Captain Hao held up a hand. He counted down on his fingers before leading Daiwen and the director in a crouch toward a rickety side door. The squeak would definitely give them away.

Director Liu held a finger up to her smiling lips and drew a small tin from her purse. She rubbed the ointment over the hinges of the door. The door opened without a sound.

The three snuck over the dingy, black and white tiles of a small, cramped office. A dusty metal desk barely fit between the walls. Faded posters depicting blurry, animal-headed forms drooped and peeled from over the desk.

The ship creaked and swayed as they crept single-file into a narrow hall. Their elbows were only a hair’s breadth from the doors that lined either side. 

The doors flew open. Large red blurs shot into the hall. Dust choked off Daiwen’s scream. Their back slammed against wood.

The door screeched shut, rattling under Daiwen’s back. It threw them against the wall of thick, red table tarp. The heavy tarp only crushed them tighter against the wall. It covered them from head to toe, shrink-wrapping over their body.

Daiwen choked and coughed on the dust. No air could get through the waterproof layer trapping them against the door. They strained and squirmed against the tarp.

Arms, legs, head, neck--they couldn’t move an inch. Burning heat stabbed through their lungs. Their entire body seized with prickling heat like ants crawling under their skin. Daiwen’s eyes bulged trying to escape their skull. Red blurred to black.

A cool breeze tickled Daiwen’s nose. They woke with a start. They couldn’t move. The red table tarp had shrink-wrapped their arms to their sides and their legs together against the door. At least it had peeled back off their head and neck.

Three figures stood single-file around Director Liu, pressed back-first against the door behind Daiwen. She snarled at them but was just as trapped. The two on her right were black-robed siblings with long, white hair in intricate knots. The one on her left was Ruiwen.

“--can you blame me? We’ve been trapped in your stupid theater putting on your stupid plays for rich people for an eternity. Guess what? It’s just a game to them. Big Brother and Little Sister gave me the chance to do something, really do something!

“So yes, I called Baling. I even mourned Baling. But look where we are now.

“We’re on the verge of revolution, real revolution, for the first time in a thousand years. It’s not because of your play. It’s because of mine. One day, you’ll be thanking me.”

“Actually…,” said the elder sibling winced and shrugged.

“Oh, you were going to kill them?”

“Sorry, but it’s Way policy,” said the younger. “I mean, we’ll keep them alive as torture collateral until the Gray Priest verifies the goods. You have the goods, right?”

Ruiwen handed Little Sister a covered bowl of white jade. The director snarled and jerked. The door rattled under them, but the tarp held her flat.

“Easy there,” said Big Brother. “We’ll take good care of your friend.”

Little Sister slipped the jade bowl into an inner pocket of her robe.

“See? Nice and safe. Ruiwen,” she gave them a nod, “pleasure doing business with you.”

She ran past Daiwen to the end of the gently rocking hall.

“Hey, that one’s awake!” she called back without stopping.

Big Brother and Ruiwen’s eyes met Daiwen’s, then each other’s. They shrugged. It wasn’t like Daiwen could do anything pinned to the door. They turned back to Director Liu.

“I should head back, too. Daylight’s coming, and there’s a whole theater troupe in need of a new director,” Ruiwen kissed the current director’s cheek. “Toodles.”

They walked out the same way as Little Sister, winking at Daiwen as they passed. Pent up nausea roiled up from Daiwen’s gut. They retched over the waterproof table tarp into the rocking hall.

Big Brother dropped his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms.

“A restaurant on the water, they said. It’ll be romantic, they said,” he shook his head. “Right, let’s get you locked up before that spell wears out.”

Big Brother walked past the director and Daiwen to open the door across from the still-unconscious Captain Hao. He snapped his fingers and pointed into the room.

The red tarp scooped Daiwen off the door like a cockroach in a newspaper and ferried them through the air. As soon as they passed through the doorway, the tarp whipped open with a sharp crack.

Daiwen yelped and rolled. Their shoulder and side smacked against the red and blue tiles. The leg of a table stopped their roll. They coughed, eyes watering in the clouds of dust.

The director and the captain whipped in after them. Both hit the ground grunting and coughing. Daiwen crawled to their feet, breathing through the sleeve of their jacket. They helped Director Liu and Captain Hao up to standing in an indoor dining room.

Six tables lined up in three long rows. Waterproof red tarps covered each of them under a thick layer of dust. A golden sun had been painted on the back of each of the black folding chairs.

At the far end of the room was a wooden stage framed by sky blue curtains embroidered with clouds. Three dusty, animal-headed mannequins stood onstage. The first, covered in short brown fur, had the head of a bear and wore a tall, black hat. The second, covered in dark gray fur, had the head of a rabbit and wore a scarlet bowtie. The third, covered in yellow feathers, had the head of a duck and wore a bib printed with faded purple characters for ‘let’s eat’ (我們來吃吧).

“Well, the guards look friendly,” said the director.

She and Daiwen explained to the captain what they’d learned about the murder. They tried the porthole windows while they talked. The windows wouldn’t budge. Captain Hao tried the door.

Magic snapped and crackled from the knob. The captain screamed. Jagged lines of blue-white lightning wracked his body. He dropped to the tiles, smoke rising off his limp form.

Daiwen ran from the window. They skidded and slid into the captain. He grunted, weak but alive. Daiwen pulled him up to sitting, holding him against their chest for support. 

The captain’s head slumped forward, but his eyes opened a crack. The corner of his mouth curled wryly.

“Thanks for keeping me from choking.”

“Yeah, anytime. Should I let go now?”

“Might as well hang out for another five minutes while we think of a way out.”

Despite the scares, or maybe because of them, Daiwen dropped their head to his collarbone. They held him a little tighter.

The director cleared her throat. She pointed up over one of the tables. There was a square, metal grate between wooden boards.

“It’s someone else’s turn to try,” said the captain.

Daiwen let go. He pushed to his feet as they climbed up onto a folding chair. They set one foot on the table.

The red tarp leaped up under them. It threw Daiwen off the table. They hit the floor with a bodily grunt. The tarp flattened over them, crushing them against the tile.

Dust sucked down Daiwen’s throat. Their scream choked off to wheezing coughs. Captain Hao and the director screamed their name from the other side of the tarp, tearing at the fabric. They couldn’t make a single scratch.

Daiwen struggled uselessly under the heavy red cover. Their lungs only burned hotter, sharper. They opened their mouth in a wheezed sob. The fabric sucked into their crushed throat, suffocating.

Darkness swam at the corners of their eyes. Fabric tore with a thick, ropey rip. The pressure lifted off Daiwen’s body all at once. The jerked up to sitting, heaving spikes of cool air into their tortured lungs.

A hulking, yellow feathered form loomed over them. ‘Let’s eat.’ Daiwen looked up into the solid black eyes of the mannequin. Not a mannequin. From a duckbill’s length away, they could see the metal stitches binding the creature’s flesh and bone. The creatures were yaoguai, just like...Yaoguai.

“Thank you,” said Daiwen.

The duck opened their mouth, revealing a set of metal teeth behind a first set of white teeth.

“Try to get out again, and we’re just gonna watch you die,” they said with a metal on metal screech.

“Yeah,” said the rabbit, standing behind them. “The vent grates are all trapped, we’ve tried.”

“Shhh!” the duck clapped a feathered hand over the bunny’s human-toothed mouth.

“Wait, you’re trapped here too?”

“No, we just get bored,” the bunny mumbled through the feathers.

Captain Hao and Director Liu each took one of Daiwen’s arms. They helped Daiwen up and didn’t let go. The duck didn’t let go of the bunny, either. Only the bear yaoguai remained onstage, as dusty and still as a mannequin.

“Wouldn’t you like to get out?”

“No! No! This is our home! Big Brother and Little Sister said so!” said the duck.

“There’s a whole world out there,” said the director.

“How long have you been trapped here?” asked the captain.

“Always,” said the bunny.

“Stop talking to them!”

The duck dragged the bunny back to the stage. Daiwen, the captain, and the director huddled together.

“They have to know something about this place,” said the captain.

“They’re not going to talk to us, not unless we get that rabbit alone,” said the director.

And that was be impossible. But they’d all been trapped here, equally bored.

“I have an idea.”

\--/--

Daiwen pulled a folding chair into the center of an aisle, directly in view of the yaoguai on stage. They sat, spreading their legs apart so their ankles touched either leg of the chair. The director joined them in the aisle. 

She traced a pattern over the exposed skin of Daiwen’s thigh, biting her lip. Director Liu sank down between Daiwen’s legs. Two fingers snagged the crotch of Daiwen’s panties, pulling them to the side. She drew out the red silk from Daiwen’s cunt.

“Hey, what are you doing?” the duck called out from the stage.

“Oh, nothing,” the director murmured back over her shoulder.

She lowered her mouth to Daiwen’s cunt and spoke no more. Daiwen grunted and clutched the bars of the back legs of the chair. Their head lolled back over the backrest.

“Mind if I cut in?” asked the captain, standing behind them completely naked.

Daiwen opened their mouth, not minding at all. His fingers knotted in their hair, and he pulled their head further down against the backrest. He guided his dick between their waiting lips.

Daiwen sucked the captain. The director sucked Daiwen.

“What the fuck are you--”

Daiwen shuddered. Their hands seized down on the bars of the chair. Their back arched in a sharp bow from their cunt on the director’s mouth at the edge of the seat to their dick-stuffed throat bent over the backrest. 

They sobbed a moan around Captain Hao’s dick. His breath hitched. His knuckles whitened on the sides of the backrest, and he spat a litany of curses.

The bunny jumped down off the stage.

“Hey! Hey! I want to try! Can someone do me?”

Director Liu looked back over her shoulder, licking her blood-stained lips.

“Come here.”

The bunny hopped over behind her, pumping their rising dick in one hand. The director grinned and swallowed their cock down to the hilt. The bunny squealed, bouncing on their heels. Their furry fingers knotted in Director Liu’s hair.

The bear stepped down off the stage, holding their tall hat modestly over their crotch. Captain Hao, eyes half-lidded in feral rut nodded at them. 

The bear walked behind the captain. They moved their hat from over their thick, dripping cock, back onto their furry head. They gripped the captain’s hips between their black-clawed paws and reamed him up the ass.

Captain Hao braced against the backrest, screaming his curses. Every time the bear pounded him, his hard cock rammed against the back of Daiwen’s throat. Daiwen snorted and gurgled for breath.

The duck, arms crossed over their bib-covered chest, stepped off the stage. Captain Hao rocked his hips back against the bear just enough to pull out of Daiwen’s throat. Daiwen raised their head off the backrest.

“You want in?” they croaked with a sloppy grin.

The duck, glowering, gave a single, wordless nod. Daiwen got off the chair and patted the seat. The duck sat.

Daiwen helped them lean their head back to take Captain Hao’s cock. The duck let out a muffled squawk of surprise. Daiwen giggled and spread their legs apart.

“Wait til you feel this.”

They sank down to their knees and pressed their tongue to the duck’s downy-feathered cunt.


	33. The Hero Remains Level-Headed

Chapter 33: The Hero Remains Level-Headed (大勇若怯)

The three yaoguai were a lot more talkative after having been saved from their mind-numbing boredom. It hadn’t always been that way. Years ago, when the restaurant first opened, they’d seen lots of business. The three yaoguai would perform for the customers together.

But there were very few repeat customers. Every day brought new faces until one day there was nobody else to bring. Big Brother and Little Sister sold what pieces they could, but no one was interested in buying the whole restaurant. That worked out, in a way.

“At least we have a home,” said the bunny, sitting beside their fellow yaoguai on the edge of the stage.

“An illegal one. We’re living here illegally,” said the duck.

“Sometimes they come in to hear us play, and it’s just like old times,” said the bear.

“No! No!” said the director, waving her hands across her face. “You’ve been brainwashed, enslaved!”

“You’re definitely being held here illegally,” said the captain, straightening his jacket.

“You said they’d come inside the room to hear you? Unlock the door?” said Daiwen.

They sat in a folding chair across the stage with the director crossing her legs to one side. The captain dropped into the chair on their other side once he’d finished dressing.

“Yes,” said the bear.

“Then I think we’re all getting out tonight.”

“Today,” said the duck.

“Yeah!” said the bunny.

“Wait, wait, wait,” said the captain.

Big Brother wouldn’t open the door just to hear some music. He had new captives in here. Even if he did open the door, he’d take one look, see the trap, and shut it before anyone had a chance to react.

“Unless you have a better idea, we have to try,” said Daiwen. “And, there may be a way to hide the trap.”

“Alright, what’ve you got?”

“Bondage.”

The director’s jaw dropped. She clapped her hands to the sides of her face, eyes a-sparkle.

“Cabaret!”

“Exactly.”

\--/--

The duck and the bunny stood shoulder to shoulder in front of the cloudy day curtain. The duck opened their mouth. Out came the sound of an entire set of drums, including a brassy cymbal. Arms crossed, they laid down a beat that made the windows jump in their portholes.

The bunny opened their mouth. Out came the sound of a metal-stringed quartet that sawed straight through the wood of the ship. A fist banged on the back of the door.

“No performing for the hostages!” Big Brother shouted.

The wood and song drowned him out. Only Daiwen and Captain Hao, tied to chairs at two tables at the back of the room, heard him leave. They shared a glance full of doubt.

“Do you want to call it?” the captain mouthed across the aisle.

“Not yet.”

Big Brother may not have found the music interesting, but if they kept going, he’d definitely find it annoying. Daiwen had no idea the yaoguai would be this loud. If the ship wasn’t soundproofed, maybe--

The door screeched open under the screeching strings. Big Brother stood in the doorway accompanied by a lean, fox-headed humanoid covered in red fur, a fourth yaoguai. Big Brother and the fox, armed with meat cleavers, looked immediately at Daiwen and the captain in their chairs.

“Gah! Make it stop!” cried the captain.

“My ears!” cried Daiwen.

They may’ve been the shittiest actors on the sea, but the music’s volume was more than real enough.

“Stop torturing the hostages! Wait, where’s--”

The duck waddled and the bunny hopped to either side of the stage, drawing the curtains with them. 

Director Liu laid on her side, naked, across a line of three chairs. One hand had been tied to the leg of the chair under her shoulder. The other arm had been bent over the same chair’s backrest and tied to the supporting metal bar. Her top leg bent at the knee over the backrest of the second chair, fully exposing her cunt.

The duck and the bunny finally dropped their volume. The bear lumbered out from behind a curtain. They opened their mouth. Out came a delicate sound somehow somewhere between a stringed instrument and a light drum. It perfectly complimented the director’s voice:

“Up where the mountains meet the heavens above  
I could swear there is someone, somewhere  
Watching me.”

The bear kicked the third chair aside and pumped their cock.

Big Brother ran down the aisle, waving his arms.

“Stop! For the love of the Godlich! I will sic Foxy on you if you even--”

“Oh, this is consensual,” said Director Liu.

“Are you sure? Because We’ve already got out the meat cleavers--”

“You’re ruining my cabaret moment!”

“Ok! Sorry!” Big Brother apologized before pointing his meat cleaver at the bear. “I’m watching you.”

“Good,” said the director, continuing to sing:

“Through the wind, and the chill, and the rain  
I can feel their approach like a fire in my blood.”

The bear lifted her legs off the chairs. They opened them sidewise like the holds of a tilted wheelbarrow, her lower leg in front of the bear and her upper leg behind them. The yaoguai thrust into Director Liu’s ass. She screamed:

“I need a hero!”

The duck and the rabbit looked out over the stage and opened their mouths. They blasted their drums and strings into the dining room.

Big Brother staggered back, nearly dropping his meat cleaver as he clapped his hands over his ears. Captain Hao, free of his false bonds, ran at Big Brother from behind with his chair.

Director Liu roared over the instrumentals, her voice magically amplified.

“I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night!”

Foxy vaulted over the table and tackled the captain from the side. They slammed against the floor in a tangle of straining human and metal limbs. Big Brother looked back at the clatter.

“I need a hero!”

His eyes narrowed at Daiwen with their folding chair in their hands. He held his knife close to his body and extended one hand. His fingers beckoned.

“I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light.”

Daiwen ran at Big Brother. He dropped the cleaver, catching the chair by the backrest. But Daiwen never intended to hit him with it.

“I need a hero!”

Daiwen roared with the director and gave the chair a massive shove. Big Brother barely budged, but his butt bumped up over the edge of the table. Red blurred.

“Fuck--”

The table tarp threw itself at Big Brother. He fell to the ground, thrashing helplessly as the table tarp shrink-wrapped him to the floor.

Foxy’s pointy-eared head popped up from the tangle. The duck and the rabbit shut their mouths and tackled the fox. They pinned the fox to the floor, the cleaver clattering still beside them.

“Guys! Wait! The tablecloth’s gonna kill him!” said Foxy, banging their paws to the floor emphatically.

The bear pulled out of the director and lumbered off the stage. They stopped in front of Big Brother’s weakly kicking boots.

“I have to tear the whole thing to get it off, so let’s just wait til he stops moving.”

Even Foxy had to shrug in agreement. The duck and the rabbit let Foxy up to sit in a folding chair while they waited. By the time Director Liu had slipped back into her clothes, the bear was already ripping a precision claw through the tarp. The director hung back on stage, peeking from around the cloudy curtain.

“Right, looks like we’re done here,” said the captain, picking Big Brother up in his arms. “Everybody, we’re heading back to the station.”

He had to set Big Brother back down on the floor to raise his hands up against the protest. No, the yaoguai weren’t being arrested. They just needed to come back for psych evals and get placed in a shelter while they got back on their feet. Yes, everyone had to go so the watch could get their statements, and the city could press accurate charges.

Director Liu, hidden behind the curtain, raised her arm. Her sleeve completely covered the ghostly white makeup of her hand.

“Yes, Director?” sighed the captain.

“I’d love to get out of here, really, I would, but I can’t go outside right now.”

“And why is that?”

“I’m a vampire.”

“Oh…”

Daiwen looked at the four yaoguai. The yaoguai looked back. All of them looked at the director, who couldn’t see them. They looked at the captain.

“What’s a vampire?” they asked quietly.

“It--she-she’s deathly allergic to sunlight. The rest of the actors?”

“All vampires.”

“Yeah, makes sense. Ok, change of plans. Everyone’s coming with me except for Director Liu--I’ll order you a covered coach.”

“I’ve never been in a covered coach,” said the bear.

“I wanna ride!” said the bunny.

“I’ve...never ridden one either,” said Daiwen.

“Same,” said the duck, glowering off to the side, and Foxy, swinging their legs.

“Ok. You know what? Fine.”

The captain carried Big Brother back to the station, alone. He returned with the first light of dawn to the dockside slums. A pair of oxen lazily chewing green cud pulled the covered, olive green coach the size of a small room to a stop right outside the restaurant boat’s front door.

The four yaoguai carried Director Liu, wrapped in curtains, down the gangplank like a corpse for sea burial. They sat with her inside the coach where the windows had been covered by black tarp. Daiwen climbed up beside the captain in the outdoor driver’s seat.

“So, another change of plans,” he said as the oxen backed down the pier, slow and easy.

He’d sent the watch to the Huatian Theater for Ruiwen, but Ruiwen was also a vampire. Unless they picked the actor up in the coach, the chances of accidentally killing the murderer en route to the station were unacceptably high.

The watch had the theater quietly surrounded. Captain Hao parked the coach a few blocks back. He said nothing when Daiwen got down from the coach when he did, but he gave them a firm nod. Then the door opened and all four yaoguai clambered out.

“Wait--”

They headed straight for the theater. He sighed and ran out in front of them, Daiwen on his heels.

“Follow my lead.”

They nodded and crept on tip-toe behind him. The captain sent the watch to wait outside the backdoor. He led Daiwen and the others through the front, which, built for rich patrons as it was, didn’t squeak. Daiwen followed him into the back of the velvety seating area.

Ruiwen stood alone onstage. They held a single lotus blossom to their chest. Ruiwen closed their eyes and sang out to the empty seats:

“When I was ten my father split, full of it, debt-ridden  
Two years later, see me and my mother bed-ridden  
Half-dead sittin' in their own sick, the scent thick  
And I got ‘better’ but my mother went quick.”

The captain turned back, motioning for them to stay low. The four yaoguai and vanished. He mouthed a cursed and snuck down the aisle with Daiwen.

“Left me with nothin’ but ruined pride, something new inside  
A voice saying  
‘Ruiwen, you gotta fend for yourself.’”

Ruiwen threw the lotus down on the stage and lifted their arms up to the heights.

“The world will never be the same--”

The actor’s nostrils flared. Fuck. Their head jerked straight toward Daiwen. And the captain. With their stealth blown, the two stood.

“Ruiwen, you’re under arrest,” said the captain.

Ruiwen laughed and dropped back into a fighting stance.

“Not likely. There's a million things I haven’t done yet. Just you--”

Seats in the front aisle exploded into the air. The bear and the bunny burst up, paws clawing and teeth gnashing. Ruiwen leapt back, screaming.

The duck dived down from the scaffolds above, a rope around their waist. Ruiwen rolled to the side, out of the way of their first and second sets of teeth.

Ruiwen had barely pushed up to their feet when sprinting footsteps padded from behind the stage. Foxy sprang out from the curtain, tackling Ruiwen into the seats. Daiwen and the captain managed to pull the fox off before they mauled the actor’s face off.

“Thanks, Foxy. We’ll take it from here,” said Daiwen, snapping the captain’s metal cuffs onto Ruiwen’s wrists.

“Fuck,” they spat blood. “I would’ve gotten away with it if it wasn’t for you meddling kids and your,” they squinted at the four yaoguai, “fox, duck, bear, and rabbit?”

“Tell it to the judge,” said the captain.


	34. Sloppy Work

Chapter 34: Sloppy Work (偷工減料)

Captain Hao drove them all back to the station. It took half a day to process all of them just so they could leave. Daiwen went last by choice despite knowing that Bandit Lady Gao eagerly awaited their good news back at the estate.

Director Liu in a broad-brimmed hat, dark glasses, and swaddled in a thick blanket, sat on a bench outside Captain Hao’s office. She knocked on the office door as soon as her eyes met Daiwen’s. The captain popped his head out.

“Is this about dinner? Because you won that one, so no need.”

“I know. It’s not. I just wanted to thank you both for your tremendous efforts in catching the killer, so I’d like to invite you to a special performance tomorrow night.”

“You mean like the one that sent your entire audience protesting at the gates of the Gao Estate?” the captain asked dryly.

“Outdoors, yes. Free, yes. But the aim time isn’t to incite the crowd to protest. They’ll all know by tomorrow that the countess wasn’t involved in the killing anyway. I just want to thank them, all of you.”

After having spent the night and most of the morning with Director Liu, Daiwen could confidently say that she wasn’t the kind of person to ‘just’ do anything. Ulterior motives like putting the actors back into good public graces after misleading the audience aside, it would be impolite to refuse the director outright.

“Thank you, Director Liu,” said Daiwen. “You get back safe now.”

“I will. Eight o’clock. Be there. There’ll be a cast and crew party afterward.”

She smiled and snapped her fingers. The four yaoguai hopped, skipped, lumbered, and walked down the hall after her. They gave their thanks and farewells as they passed in a flurry of hugs, waves, and high-fives. Daiwen waved them off, their laughter fading as the station door swung shut behind the yaoguai.

“Think you’ll show up?” asked the captain.

Considering they had yet to find the final spirit gate, the gate of metal, Daiwen still had some investigation to take care of. If they knew the spirits, that cast and crew mingle was exactly where they had to go.

“I don’t think I have a choice.”

If the gate brought them to the resting place of the Godlich...Daiwen clenched their fists. They would wake the Godlich to kill them and end the Whispering Way’s reign of terror. Then, finally, the gates would send them home. They hoped.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah, just...not looking forward to taking this ‘case closed’ back to the countess.”

“Technically, it’s not closed until we catch Little Sister. And file all this paperwork.”

“I can read.”

“Can you write?”

“No…”

“Reading is plenty helpful if you’re feeling especially dedicated to justice today.”

“I am.”

The captain held the office door open. Daiwen ducked under his arm with a wry grin. Captain Hao, however, was all business thanks to the mountain of paperwork burying his desk like a rabbit house in a snowdrift.

Daiwen had to watch themself from getting too close to contact, sitting together behind the desk. Daiwen read and Captain Hao filled. The paper mountain lasted to the evening, through several snack breaks, and threatened to stretch into tomorrow.

The pen flew out of Captain Hao’s cramped, sweaty fingers and rolled across the floor. He shook out his hand. Daiwen dropped their forehead against the one side of the desk they’d managed to clear. The metal was a cooling but ineffective balm for their dry eyes and the pounding in their skull.

“Would you mind if I took a quick nap? Or just passed out on your couch?”

“I’m about to do the same thing on the floor.”

Daiwen felt a lot less guilty flumping face-down onto his couch. They passed out to the rattling of metal drawers as Captain Hao dropped in the unfinished paperwork.

Daiwen woke at midnight. Captain Hao was still lying curled on the floor, gently snoring. Daiwen went to the watch’s bathroom.

They washed their clothes and silk tampon in the sink, hanging them over the empty stall doors to dry. While they waited, they washed the dirt and sweat off their own body. They felt as refreshed as after their soak in Countess Gao’s porcelain bathing tub.

They returned to the office two hours later, slightly damp. They slipped their boots off at the door and stepped over the snoring captain. Instead of returning to the couch, Daiwen sat against it, knees curled to their chest. Captain Hao rolled to the side facing them, his nose inches from their toes.

“The floor’s mine. Back on the couch.”

“Oh! Right!” Daiwen clambered up.

The captain sat up, reaching out in apology.

“Hey, no, sorry, I was just kidding. I didn’t mean to boss you around.”

His hands rested on the edge of the seat cushion. Daiwen let their foot slip forward, brushing his fingers with their toes. An electric jolt shot up the bend of their leg. A muscle flexed in the captain’s jaw.

“I wouldn’t mind letting you boss me around a little,” said Daiwen, their voice thick and hushed.

“Really?” he asked, taking their foot in his hand.

“Really.”

Captain Hao raised their foot to his lips, kissing the thin skin of its back.

“Then wait for me here. I don’t want my office mistaken for a crime scene.”

He returned with translucent white tarps from forensics. Captain Hao spread them out over the floor.

“Not the couch?” asked Daiwen.

“Not if I’m bossing you around.”

Fair enough.

“Speaking of, undress and kneel.”

He did the same without the kneeling. Captain Hao tipped over an empty metal coat rack onto the floor and pulled a pair of metal cuffs from his desk.

“Straddle the pole.”

Daiwen kneeled with the lips of their slit over the metal pole. The captain caught their chin in his hand. He tilted their head to meet his eyes and the cruel smile on his lips.

“When I give you an order, what should I hear?”

“Yes sir,” they squeaked.

“Better. Hands behind your back.”

“Yes sir.”

He cuffed them with the short chain under the pole, barely any room at all. He braced one foot on their bent knee.

“Take my cock.”

With his foot keeping them from scooting closer, Daiwen had to bend down to suck his dick. All their weight feel forward onto the pole splitting their slit. Daiwen grunted onto his dick, squirming over the metal.

A little disfort wasn’t torture enough for Captain Hao’s captive. He leaned down on their shoulders, grinding their cunt into the bar as he forced their head lower.

Daiwen’s squeal choked off on his dick. Blood spurted from their lips.

The captain rocked them up and down on the pole from his iron grip on their shoulders. Daiwen’s hips struggled to buck. They only drove Daiwen harder onto the captain’s cock and ground the metal pole deeper into their slit. Their body shuddered and wracked with orgasm in his hands and onto his dick, the cuffs on their wrists clattering against the pole.

Captain Hao cursed and eased Daiwen’s head off his dick. A thick strand of drool slopped from Daiwen’s mouth onto their chest. He cupped the soft flesh of their breast in his hand and kissed their stiffened tit.

“I’ve been wanting to stick my dick in you ever since I had to hold you up in that stupid closet. Your body’s so soft, but you cum like an earthquake. What am I supposed to do with such an empty cumdumpster?”

“Fuck me,” they panted.

But the captain didn’t free their holes from off the pole. He only tongued a teasing circle around their tit.

“Fuck me, what?”

“Fuck me, please, sir!” they whimpered.

Daiwen jumped and squeaked as he took their tit between his teeth. Their slit banged up and down over the pole, leaking blood and slick.

The captain reached around and uncuffed his squealing, bouncing captive. He pulled his swivel chair out from under his desk.

“Stomach on the seat.”

“Yes sir.”

Once they’d hunched over the chair, he set their hands and feet on the black, horizontal spokes at the foot of the chair. He pulled out a second pair of cuffs to lock their wrists to opposite ankles, the metal chains taut under the spokes.

Captain Hao gave the chair a cursory push. Daiwen and the chair rolled under his desk. He caught them by the hips before their head hit the metal wall. He rolled them back into him, his dick piercing into Daiwen’s ass.

Daiwen grunted and snorted like an indignant horse. Captain Hao rolled them up and down his cock, deeper and deeper until their grunts turned to sobs and their snorts to drool.

There was a knock at the door.

Daiwen jumped, but there was nowhere to go. Their anal shaft clenched down on the captain’s dick. He cursed and rolled them under the desk.

“Don’t come in!” he shouted.

“Yeah, no prob, Cap,” said the guy from forensics. 

Daiwen set their toes on the floor. They walked themself back to the captain, impaling their ass back on his dick as the forensics guy talked.

“--about to hit the night market (夜市). You want anything? Squid stick? Bubble tea (珍珠奶茶)?”

Captain Hao gripped the edge of the desk as Daiwen used his dick for their own pleasure. He cursed under his breath and pushed Daiwen off of him.

“No. Thanks. See you tomorrow.”

“Alright! Have fun!”

Captain Hao reached down under the table, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of Daiwen’s asscheeks.

“Fun. Right.”

He dragged Daiwen out from under the table and spun them around to face him. His hot cock against their cheek.

“Clean it.”

“Yes shir,” they mumbled as he pushed it between their lips.

When he was satisfied with the shine of their spit, he pulled out and uncuffed them from the chair. As Daiwen stood, he stepped up into their face, forcing their pounded as against the hard edge of the metal desk.

“You tried to make me cum before I was ready,” he growled into the skin of their neck.

Daiwen’s breath hitched at the heat prickling their skin. Their head lolled back. He caught their hair in his fingers and pulled their neck further into his mouth, sucking. 

Daiwen moaned, shivering against the solid heat of his body. They sat up on the desk, wrapping their legs around the captain. He pushed their back down flat against the desk, crushing them under his weight. He pinned their wrists to the table and claimed their cunt like an animal.

Daiwen screamed, writhing under him. Captain Hao only pulled out to flip Daiwen onto their stomach to claim their ass. With every vicious pound, Daiwen’s cunt ground into the hard edge of the desk.

Daiwen bucked and thrashed, gurgling senselessly as he impaled them to the hilt. Shock after shock of rutting pleasure stabbed up their curve of their spine. Their cunt clenched and convulsed uncontrollably.

Captain Hao cried out a stream of curses. His hot cum spurted into their ass. Daiwen sobbed and shuddered with him.

He pulled out of their ass and helped them up off the desk. Their cunt ached, bruised from the edge of the table. Cum slopped from their ass down their leg. It joined their blood puddles on the tarps.

“Fuck,” Daiwen croaked. “I just washed up.”

Captain Hao dropped his forehead against the line of their back, laughing.

“Come home with me. I’ve got a tub. And food.”

“After we clean up the crime scene.”

He kissed their shoulder.

“I like the way you think.”

The two cleaned up the office. Captain Hao took them back to his home, a one-room apartment over the clamoring night market. They grabbed snacks on the way up.

Before their second shower, Daiwen paid the captain back in full for his domination. They tortured Captain Hao’s cock until he screamed bloody murder. When Daiwen finally let him, he came cursing their name to Hell.


	35. The Ash Burns Twice

Chapter 35: The Ash Burns Twice (死灰復燃)

The Huatian Theater Troupe put on their second special performance this week on the night before Spidermoon. Daiwen and Captain Hao wore the exact same clothes that they had during the last performance. About half the watchers even turned up, this time all of them in their performance-enjoying plainclothes.

The curtain opened exactly at eight o’clock. Director Liu stood at the center of the stage dressed in armor of pink silk and bamboo slats. The helm that she wore, open, was a silk replica of the top half of a gorilla skull.

Her gaze snapped toward the west. She dropped into a ready stance, a hand over the hilt of her bamboo sword. A drum beat from behind the stage. The western curtain rippled.

The bear, rabbit, and fox yaoguai all in yellow silk and bamboo slat armor stalked out through the curtain. They raised their heads to the heavens with an unearthly roar of metal strings and percussion.

Director Liu drew her sword with a backward hop. The eastern curtain rippled. Meiri and Furuan hopped to the director’s sides, landing with their swords drawn. They charged.

The yaoguai charged.

Swords met tooth and claw three steps in at centerstage. The drum kicked up into a furious beat. The yaoguai circled the director, stalking Meiri and Furuan. They struck with metal shrieks.

Furan fell. The fox grabbed the back of their armor by the teeth and dragged them off through the western curtain.

Meiri fell. The bunny grabbed the back of her armor by the teeth and dragged her off as well. Only Director Liu remained, circled by the stalking bear.

The drum pounded to the beat of a racing heart. The bear shrieked metal and clawed at the director. Her bamboo sword clacked against every blow, but the bear was too strong.

The director fell to one knee. To two. The bear clasped both paws together and rained down a mighty two-handed punch.

Director Liu fell to her back. And rolled. As she rocked up to her feet, she drew her sword in a backhanded slash through the bear’s side.

The drumbeat stopped. Red ribbons burst out between her and the bear. The bear dropped belly-first to the stage floor. Director Liu stood slowly, sheathing her sword.

The duck, dressed in stage ninja black, stepped onto the stage from the eastern curtain. As Director Liu turned in slow circles, the duck grabbed the bear by the legs and hauled them through the western curtain.

The director, still turning, lifted the helm off her head. A wave of white hair flowed out from her turning body. She stopped, facing the crowd.

Pigtailed Aigen dressed in spring green hopped out from the eastern curtain. They tilted their head this way and that as they approached. They dropped to a cross-legged seat at the director’s side. 

Director Liu smiled fondly and sang:

“I was younger than you are now  
When I was given my first command.”

The drum returned, pulsing to the beat of an aged heart. The director clenched her fists over her chest but held her head high.

“Even now I lie awake  
Knowing history has its eyes on me.”

Meiri and Furuan dressed in ghostly white stepped out from behind the western curtain. They sang:

“History has its eyes on you.”

The director shut her eyes but only for a moment. She crouched down beside Aigen, taking their hands in hers.

“You have no control:  
Who lives, who dies, who tells your story.”

The metal strings and percussion returned, not screeching but soaring. Director Liu and Aigen stood hand-in-hand, the director singing:

“Remember from here on in:”

The ghosts, the director, and Aigen turned to face the audience in a single line across the stage. They sang together:

“History has its eyes on you.”

As the music faded, a wordless clap spread through the crowd. Though strong and hearty, there was none of the cheering that Daiwen had grown used to hearing. Nor did they want to break the wordlessness with a cheer of their own--it would somehow be as taboo as whooping during a prayer.

The curtain closed. The crowd departed quietly, still under the spell of what they’d seen this night. Only Daiwen and the captain remained.

Director Liu hopped through the curtains and off the stage, landing beside them.

“Will you be joining us for the party?” she asked, pulling off her white wig and coiling it into her helm.

“Yes,” said Daiwen.

“If this party is what I think it is, I’m gonna skip this one,” said Captain Hao.

“It’s everything and more.”

“Yeah, I’ll catch you later. Thanks for the performance, though. That was...I--thanks. Daiwen, have fun.”

“I will.”

He gave Daiwen a pat on the shoulder and a quick peck on the cheek before taking his leave. The director raised her eyebrows but said nothing, instead offering Daiwen the crook of her arm. Daiwen took it with an unmistakably mischievous grin.

The first plinks of the night rain drizzled down as Daiwen and the director followed the mini-stage through the side of the theater. Director Liu let her actors handle the parking. She brought Daiwen out onto the stage in the empty but fully lit auditorium.

The troupe had moved their old, threadbare couches and antique hardwood all across the stage. Screens painted with the Mingdao Wood’s black-boughed trees and bamboo offered the suggestion of privacy around clusters of furniture. Buffet tables lined the back wall of the stage carrying all kinds of red-themed delicacies Daiwen had never seen.

“Actors only,” said the director, steering them to the table at the end of the line. “This one is for guests.”

The actors had raided the night market. All kinds of street food groups were represented, barbecue skewers, candied fruit skewers, pork buns, dumplings, chicken feet--most of which Daiwen hadn’t eaten or even seen until last night with Captain Hao.

Their stomach growled.

“I’m gonna get a bowl.”

As Daiwen ate, the actors drifted onto the stage, naked. All except for the yaoguai. They were naturally in the nude, but none of the yaoguai had yet to show up to the party.

The director hooked Meiri’s little finger in hers and led her behind a nearly transparent painted screen to a threadbare couch. They pulled it out, revealing a thin but soft futon. That seemed as good a place to start the spirit gate investigation as any. 

Daiwen set down their bowl. They stuffed their clothes in their dollpack, and joined Director Liu and Meiri behind the screen.

Meiri laid on her back on the futon. She squealed, her glasses bouncing every time that Director Liu drove her cock into Meiri’s cunt. Daiwen sat on the corner of the futon.

“Yest?” the director asked expectantly.

“Have either of you ever heard of a spirit gate?”

“Oh…”

“Oh. Oh, sorry, did you want me to--”

“Please,” Meiri panted, gripping the sheets behind her head.

Meiri whimpered as Director Liu pulled out to let Daiwen on. Daiwen straddled Meiri, cunts aligned. The director answered as they started to grind on Meiri’s mound.

“I’ve heard of spirit gates. Unfortunately, I know nothing about them,” said the director, pushing Daiwen down flat against Meiri. “What about you?”

“N-nothing,” Meiri panted, squirming under Daiwen and the director’s pressure. “You should ask Furuan.”

Daiwen would have left at once to do so, but Director Liu chose that moment to slip her cock up Daiwen’s silk-stuffed cunt. Daiwen grunted and bucked, but the director kept them firmly crushed against the helpless Meiri.

Meiri’s eyes opened wide. Daiwen strained against the pressure on their back to look behind their shoulder. The bear yaoguai had joined them behind the screen, pumping their thick, solid cock.

The futon squeaked under the bear’s weight. They knelt over Daiwen and Meiri’s heads and stuck their cock between their mouths. Daiwen licked with Meiri as best as they could, but their double-stuffed cunt clenched and wracked with spasm after spasm. Daiwen could scream and moan.

The bear shifted up, sitting their asshole over Meiri’s face. They grabbed the sides of Daiwen’s head and pushed their cock into their uselessly moaning mouth. The director grabbed Daiwen’s arms, pulling their back up into an arch before Daiwen choked on the bear’s dick.

Director Liu wouldn’t let Daiwen go until the bear came, forcing Daiwen to cum sobbing again and again on the bear’s cock. The bear finally pulled out of Daiwen’s mouth and off of Meiri’s face. Cum burst from their cock. It splattered onto Daiwen and Meiri’s faces in hot, gooey ropes.

The director pulled out of Daiwen’s battered cunt. Daiwen rolled off Meiri onto their back. As they waited for their breath to steady, Meiri climbed onto her knees and sucked the blood of the director’s dick. The bear leaned over Daiwen, licking their own cum off Daiwen’s face.

Clean and steady, Daiwen staggered off to find Furuan. They found Furuan hunched over one arm of a hardwood couch, their feet on the seat. The duck yaoguai stood on the other side of the arm pegging Furuan up the ass with a strap-on.

Aigen hunched over the other arm of the couch. The bunny hopped up and down behind them. Aigen’s pigtails bounced ever time the bunny railed their ass to the hilt.

“Do either of you know where to find the spirit gate of metal?”

“No,” Furuan grunted.

“I do,” said Aigen, beckoning Daiwen over with two fingers.

Daiwen obliged, crawling up on all fours onto the couch between Aigen and Furuan. Aigen took Daiwen’s head in their hands. They guided their mouth onto their clit.

Furuan grabbed Daiwen by the thighs. They lifted their legs, resting them on either of his shoulders. Furuan buried their face into Daiwen’s cunt like an ox’s muzzle in a feedback.

Daiwen jumped and squealed. Their arms shook under them. Aigen only forced Daiwen’s tongue deeper into their cunt. They explained the metal gate between pleasured moans.

The metal gate’s entrance was a silver mirror in the Gao Estate bathing room. It was impossible to miss--it covered an entire wall. All you had to do was walk through the mirror.

“But, ngh, it’s only, ngh, open during, ngh, Spidermoon.”

“But--mph!”

Daiwen’s arms collapsed under them. They dropped face-first into Aigen’s mound. Aigen screamed. They squirted all over Daiwen’s sticky face.

Furuan pressed Daiwen’s thighs tight to either side of their face. They sucked off Daiwen’s twitching clit. Daiwen screamed into Aigen’s mound. Blood spurted into Furuan’s waiting mouth.

Furuan lowered Daiwen onto the couch. They stood up off the duck’s strap-on and leaned across Daiwen to Aigen. Aigen pulled Furuan’s mouth to theirs, sucking the blood off Furuan’s tongue. The bunny squealed and came in Aigen’s asshole.

Daiwen crawled off the couch onto trembling hands and knees. They made their way out past the painted screen only to run into a pair of red-furred legs. They raised their heavy head.

Foxy stood before them baring a bright red erection. A thick, hard knot wider than a fist sat at the base of their shaft. Foxy gave Daiwen a sharp-toothed grin.

“Hey there. Did you come to fuck?”

Daiwen nodded feebly. The words had been fucked out of them, but they managed a thin, nasal whine.

Foxy took them from behind. They plowed into Daiwen’s cunt from the tip to the dip of their dick, right before their knot. 

Daiwen heaved and lowed like a cow. They collapsed flat on their chest against the stage floor, bucking senselessly.

Foxy wrapped one arm around Daiwen’s waist. They tried to help Daiwen up, but the last of Daiwen’s strength had drained to the rutting instinct between their legs. Daiwen’s hips rocked their cunt down over the fox’s knot.

Daiwen choked and drooled. Their entire body went rigid. Wracking pleasure lanced up their bowed spine. All the strength sapped from their body.

With their cunt locked around the fox’s knot, Daiwen could only lie under Foxy as a quivering heap as the fox filled Daiwen’s quaking shaft with pump after pump of burning cum. Foxy mounted them for the next twenty, cunt-stretching minutes. 

The fox’s cum squeezed through the slit lips of Daiwen’s womb. Vibrating bliss dragged Daiwen down through the floorboards and into darkness.


	36. A Meteor Catches the Moon

Chapter 36: A Meteor Catches the Moon (流星趕月)

Daiwen woke at midnight. They had an entire threadbare couch to themself. Behind their painted screen, they could see the actors and the yaoguai still going at it.

Daiwen said their farewells. They knew where the metal gate was and where they had to go--Countess Gao’s, unfortunately. But it was still early. They’d have time for a proper farewell, at least for Captain Hao. They just had to make sure nothing had happened to the mirror while they were out.

Daiwen left the building and drew up their hood. A light rain followed them out of the backdoor’s alley and into the street. At the east end of the block, many voices joined in a growing chant:

“Come with us and you will see  
This, our town on Spidermoon.”

Humans in pitch-painted, wooden spider masks burst into the street, spinning and wheeling. Four extra, sleeve-like lengths on their black tarp jackets flew up around them like the legs of a jumping spider. They whooped and roared:

“This is Spidermoon, this is Spidermoon  
Spidermoon! Spidermoon! Spidermoon! Spidermoon!”

As the spider dancers passed in front of the Huatian Theater, they flung their hands and extra arms up at the stacked ships. Huge nets of gossamer web thunked against the wood and stuck. The glassy strands caught the shining beads of falling rain.

“In this town we call home  
Everyone hail to the spider song!”

The last of the spider dancers whooped and whirled past Daiwen. They held their hands and extra arms out, beckoning. Daiwen let out a whooping laugh and skipped after them.

“Say it once, say it twice  
Take a chance and roll the dice  
Ride with the moon in the dead of night!”

Thwip! Thwip! Thwip! Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!

The spiderwebs hung between buildings. They stretched across streets. They wrapped around the streetlamps, crumbling to black ash over the hot bulbs.

“I am the ‘who’ when you call, ‘Who's there?’  
I am the wind blowing through your hair!”

Daiwen whooped and whirled with the spider dancers. The beckoning one crouched low. Daiwen crawled onto their shoulders. The spider dancer held Daiwen’s calves steady around their spider mask and hoisted Daiwen up.

“I am the shadow on the moon at night  
Filling your dreams to the brim with might!”

Daiwen cackled wildly into the strengthening rain. A heavy cloud rolled out in front of the moon. Thunder cracked. The spider dancers only roared back:

“This is Spidermoon, this is Spidermoon  
Spidermoon! Spidermoon! Spidermoon! Spidermoon!”

\--/--

Daiwen left the spider dancers once they’d reached the end of the main street. With a laugh and wave goodbye, Daiwen ran up the wooded hill to Countess Gao’s estate. Heavy rain thwacked the leaves that swished and murmured in the wind. They stopped short at the open, broken gate.

Daiwen’s pulse pounded over the drumming rain. The Whispering Way. Daiwen ran through the unhinged gate and into the opened Gao Manor. They nearly slipped on the new carpet of blood.

Bodies littered the hall. The protesters. They were cold. The bloody slick on the floor had already started to congeal. The Whispering Way was likely long gone, but Daiwen kept quiet just in case.

They picked their way over the bodies and up the stairs to the countess’s bedroom. The sliding door stood ajar. Two giant spiders, one brown and one black, hung crushed against either wall.

“Baoyun...Zhurong…”

A spiny black leg twitched over Daiwen’s head. Four legs shrank into Zhurong’s body. Their round, broken segments twisted and narrowed into their human, armored form. Metal plates dropped like scales from their black silk. 

Zhurong unstuck from the wall. They slumped limp and heavy against Daiwen’s shoulder.

“They took her,” Zhurong rasped.

“I’ll get her back.”

“You...can’t. They’re too...strong.”

Something leaked from Zhurong’s mouth down Daiwen’s back. Daiwen eased them down to the floor, leaning Zhurong against the blood-splattered wall.

“I have to try. Let me get you a healer--”

Zhurong seized Daiwen’s wrist with a last burst of strength.

“Countex…”

The light in their eyes fell flat. Zhurong’s head dropped. Their last breath escaped with a red splatter.

All the heat drained from Daiwen’s body. The heart of Director Cai, the ashes of Baling, the life of Countess Gao--they were pieces of the necromantic cult’s ritual. From the sound of it, a ritual to bring back the vanished Godlich.

Daiwen couldn’t stop the Whispering Way. Not by themself. Their aura flared purple.

A spiny brown leg twitched overhead. Zhurong twitched and jerked up from the floor. Baoyun crashed from the wall onto their eight feet. Daiwen reached between them and slid back the bedroom door.

Empty. A cold hand clapped on Daiwen’s arm. Zhurong’s limp fingers slid off their jacket sleeve. Their other hand pointed down the hall.

Daiwen gave the undead guard a nod. Zhurong stalked down the hall with Baoyun on their heels. Daiwen followed them down stair after stair to the underground tunnels. Pink water dripped onto the dark stones.

The two undead guards stopped on either side of a simple, round doorway in the stone. At the heart of its inner chamber was an ancient stone coffin. It was almost exactly like the one that trapped Count Cao and nearly killed Yaoguai. Only its lid had been engraved with the name Gao (杲).

Daiwen entered the chamber in a daze of confusion. If Countex Gao had become the Godlich and vanished, this couldn’t be them. Or maybe Countex Gao hadn’t become a divine undead after all. There was only one way to find out.

Daiwen knelt before the coffin. They clapped their palms together and shook their hands three times in prayer. Their aura flared purple.

“Countex Gao?”

Only the faint echo of dripping water pierced the taut silence.

“My name’s Daiwen. I’m a necromancer, but I’m not with that cult who took your descendant. I have to stop them before they kill Countess Gao. Please, help me.”

Drip. Drip. Drip.

“Please! At least help the countess. She’s a spoiled brat, but she’s the last of your line. They’re gonna kill her to bring back the Godlich--”

The top half of a ghostly white tiger skull rose up through the stone like water. A helm. A spirit crawled up onto the lid of the coffin. They wore a ghostly white version of silk armor with bamboo slats. Their head twisted to the right far past human safety as they spoke.

“I have not heard that name in a long time.”

Their voice scratched like a knife on glass. Daiwen’s skin broke into goose pimples just listening, but they braced their palms flat against the cool stone and spoke back.

“Countex Gao?”

“The Godlich, they called me.”

“You’re a spirit, not an undead.”

“I was an undead. I was restored to death and spirit.”

“How?”

The spirit only a lifted a hushing finger to their crooked smile, the asshole. There was no mistaking where Countess Gao had gotten hers.

“Ok, fine. Godlich, is there any help you can offer your descendant and me against the cultists?”

“Cultists?” laughed the spirit. “I used to command armies and you fear a little group of over-zealous heretics?”

“We could use an army if you still have one lying about somewhere.”

The spirit’s head twisted precariously to the left.

“I could lend you my army, but you lack the strength to command them.”

“Then give me the strength, Godlich. Please.”

The Godlich’s twisted grin cracked open over rows and rows of jagged teeth.

“As you wish.”

They leaped onto Daiwen. Daiwen’s back slammed the stones. The spirit pinned their wrists, breathing frigid air into their face.

Daiwen stared wide-eyed in fear and morbid curiosity as the rows of teeth pried apart one by one. A white tongue as long and thick as a tapered snake twisted out from the Godlich’s mouth. The tip snaked into Daiwen’s ear.

Daiwen yelped and jerked. They struggled instinctively to get away, but the spirit’s icy hands and impossible weight kept them trapped against the stones.

The Godlich’s tongue flicked the thin membrane in Daiwen’s ear. Daiwen whimpered helplessly, shuddering as their body went cold. The cold tongue oozed like sludge against the tiny hole in their ear’s membrane. A tiny drop squeezed through into Daiwen’s ear canal. Then another. Another.

Daiwen’s heart jumped into their throat. They sobbed out the last of their air. Their lungs shrivelling in sheer, animal terror.

“You’re going to die of fright like this,” the Godlich slurred around the endless tongue oozing into Daiwen’s ear.

Even breathless and pissing themself, Daiwen knew the spirit was right. They had to keep it together, but every drop oozing into their ear canal threatened to freeze over their brain. They couldn’t breathe. They couldn’t focus.

Daiwen shook under the Godlich’s armored body. Their legs kicked out on either side of the spirit’s, heels scuffing the stones. Their chest, ribs, and hips met solid, crushing weight. A slight but visceral tug twinged from between Daiwen’s legs.

A distraction. All they needed was a distraction, no different from that nameless priest’s. Daiwen looked up into the gaping sockets of the tiger-skull helm and bucked their hips against the Godlich.

The spirit’s grin softened at the corners.

“Are you--”

One eye winced shut at the next cold drop, but Daiwen nodded desperately. Darkness swam at the corners of their vision.

The spirit released one of Daiwen’s wrists to reach down between their legs. Daiwen’s breath returned in a gasp. As the Godlich rubbed their clit through the fabric of their panties, Daiwen panted the air back into their lungs.

Daiwen bucked against the Godlich’s icy fingers, grinding them harder into their mound. Heat flushed from their cunt up their chest and neck. Their head lolled back, eyes half-lidded on the edge of orgasm.

The Godlich’s fingers pulled away. Daiwen whimpered, though not in fear. The spirit’s grin returned.

They released Daiwen’s other wrist, one arm snaking under Daiwen’s waist. The spirit flipped Daiwen onto their back. The Godlich’s thick, dripping tongue wrapped over Daiwen’s eyes like a heavy blindfold.

Daiwen crawled onto their forearms. The Godlich laid over them, crushing them again against the stones. Something sticky, heavy, and cold oozed down Daiwen’s head, shoulders, and the sides of their pinned limbs.

Daiwen shivered and the blindfolding tongue shifted slightly out of place. The Godlich’s ghost white flesh and form sludged over Daiwen’s arm. Over their entire body.

Daiwen screamed. The sludge pinned and glued them down. It tickled in a slow ooze between Daiwen’s legs.

“Please, please,” they begged.

The cold sludge oozed over their face and into their begging mouth. It was more bitter than cum and thicker than mud. It weighed their tongue down as it slid down their throat.

Cold drops oozed just as agonizingly slow under the hem of Daiwen’s panties. They trailed over Daiwen’s ass and ran thick and icy over Daiwen’s holes.

Daiwen writhed and moaned under the white ooze. The Godlich answered with thicker, ropey fingers slipping into their underwear. They clung to Daiwen’s holes, gathering.

As the sticky, sludge fingers grew in weight, they pushed against Daiwen’s holes and clamped around their cunt. The ooze in Daiwen’s mouth and throat muffled their groan. Daiwen’s hips rocked on their own, grinding their cunt into the sludge hand and against the stones.

The Godlich’s sludge fingers oozed through Daiwen’s puckered mouth and their line of their swollen slit. Daiwen jerked at the cold, heavy weight between their walls, but the thick, outer ooze had swallowed their body. It forced their thrashing down to a helpless squirm.

The Godlich’s fingers pumped through their mouths, filling their shafts. The raw stretch in Daiwen’s asshole and cunt wracked their body with jolt after jolt of pleasure. All their squeezed, swallowed body could do was let out a shaking nasal whine.

The endless shocks left Daiwen vibrating inside the Godlich, who swallowed them up until only their nose peeked out from the white ooze. Then the spirit filled their nose, too. Daiwen drank them down between the wracking that clenched their stuffed throat.

Their side of their face slumped against damp stone. The whole front side of their body laid over the floor. The last of Godlich slithered through Daiwen’s ears, nose, mouth, cunt, and anus. The weight lifted off their back.

As Daiwen gasped for breath, their aura flared a deep, purple-black. 

The earth rumbled. Dust shook from between the stones of the underground tunnels. Stones cracked and dropped from the walls. They shattered with a chorus of thunderous crashes.

Skeletal hands gripped the sides of the gaping holes in the walls. Skeletal heads and necks, bleeding from the bony eye-sockets, crawled out from the holes.

A wild cackle bubbled up deep from Daiwen’s core.

\--/--

“This is Spidermoon, this is Spidermoon  
Spidermoon! Spidermoon! Spidermoon! Spider…”

The chant in the streets died on the wind as Daiwen came down from the wooded hill. Their aura blazed purple-black. They rode atop Baoyun, Zhurong scuttling in giant spider form at their side. Behind them marched a thousand skeletons leaking red from their empty sockets. They left pink puddles in the rain-slicked streets.

“Daiwen! Daiwen!”

Captain Hao ran out into the street, followed by the entire watch. He waved his arms frantically.

“Get away from those things! Come here! Come here!”

“It’s fine--we were just leaving,” said Daiwen, continuing to let Baoyun and Zhurong led them on toward wherever they were tracking the Whispering Way.

“You don’t understand--there’s an undead army behind you! There’s a fucking necromancer somewhere on the loose!”

“...I know.”

“Daiwen, you’re...you’re not--”

“I’m the fucking necromancer.”

Captain Hao stopped running. His arms dropped to his sides. His head bowed under the heavy rain.

“You’re defiling the dead.”

“Worse will happen if I don’t.”

The captain reached behind his back. He drew a crossbow.

“Stand down, Daiwen.”

Daiwen turned their gaze to the road ahead. They kept moving.

“Please don’t make me do this.”

“I’m not making you do anything,” they hissed.

The crossbow thunked. Daiwen’s head jerked back. A single bolt whistled through the air.

One skeleton pushed off another, jumping into the bolt’s path. The bolt crashed through their leaking socket. It made a tiny clatter against the rain-slicked street. The skull-punctured skeleton trampled over it and kept marching.

Daiwen’s eyes met the captain’s. He turned away first. Daiwen gritted their teeth. The cold rain washed the tears off their face.


	37. A Longing That Cuts to the Bone

Chapter 37: A Longing that Cuts to the Bone (刻骨相思)

Zhurong and Baoyun led Daiwen and the army out from Kailian City and into a valley of rolling hills. Tall, golden grasses whipped and rustled under the volley of rain from the flat sea of clouds above. As the skies lightened with the clouded dawn, a spike of worry pierced through Daiwen’s focus on saving the countess.

Today was Spidermoon, the one day that they could pass through the metal gate. And the minutes were slipping away like water through their fingers. 

Zhurong and Baoyun stopped at the foot of a hill. At its golden crest stood a rounded arch of bones. A gate.

Daiwen dismounted from Zhurong’s back. They climbed up through the long, whipping grasses, thunder rumbling behind the cover of the clouds. They slowed to a stop before the rounded stack of skeletons. 

Daiwen looked back toward the city. It burned like an ember across the distance of golden hills. 

Zhurong’s head tilted. The spider’s flat, dead eyes met Daiwen’s. Daiwen smiled at the spider, blinking hard. They turned back to the grinning skulls of the gate.

As Daiwen approached, the skeletal arms reached out from all around the archway. Daiwen stared straight ahead and walked into their waiting hands. They fell into a dizzying whirl of black and gold.

“There's such a sad love  
Deep in your eyes  
Open and closed within your eyes.”

A disembodied voice floated like a breeze over a violet stone plateau under ink-black skies. Before the opposite arch at the far edge of the plateau, a middle-aged weaver in white silk robes sat a black spinning wheel. They fed their long, white hair endlessly into the wheel. 

“There's such a fooled heart  
Beating so fast  
A love that will last.”

Zhurong and Baoyun stepped out from the gate. They froze on either side of Daiwen at the sound of the weaver’s song.

“Falling  
Falling  
Falling in love.”

The thousand skeletons marched through the gate. But all stopped at the music in the air. The blood leaking from their sockets dried up.

“But I'll be there for you  
As the world falls down.”

A ghostly white flesh blossomed flower-like over the skeletons’s feet. As the weaver continued to sing, the flesh wrapped up the bones of their legs all the way over their skulls. The flesh covered their faces like a soft, smooth ceramic mask as blank as a plate.

“Falling  
Falling  
Falling in love  
As the world falls down, falling  
Falling  
Falling in love.”

A single, lipless slit of a mouth opened across the smooth, white faces. The undead smiled wondrous smiles. A joyful murmur swept through the army.

“Alive? I’m...I’m alive!”

“Don’t get too attached,” said Daiwen. “Whatever happened to you can’t last long.”

The undead given flesh gave no sign of having heard the warning. They simply stood rooted to the spot, their smiling faces lifted upward like flowers to the sun. There was only one thing to do.

“Excuse me. Pardon me. Coming through.”

Daiwen squeezed their way through the forest of unmoving bodies to the weaver.

“Excuse me, would you please stop your spell and let my soldier go?”

“The song belongs to the gate,” said the weaver without turning away from the wheel. “I’m not doing anything.”

“Can you please undo the gate song? Or tell me how to undo it?”

“I don’t know. I’m not the gate guardian. I have no power here.”

“Great. Thanks.”

Although Daiwen suspected the weaver was lying, they couldn’t just beat the truth out of them. That, and the weaver might have been as real as the undead’s newfound ‘life.’ Magic was funny and annoying that way.

Daiwen beckoned Baoyun and Zhurong into a huddle at a corner of the plateau. Thankfully, those two had remained unaffected and came at their call.

“Ideas?”

Baoyun and Zhurong only looked at them with their flat, dead eyes. Fuck. The unspeaking part of undeath hadn’t changed for them.

The other undead weren’t responding to Daiwen’s control because they thought they were alive. Somehow, Daiwen had to remind them of their own death. Or...remind them of how it felt to really be alive.

The giant spiders watched unblinking as Daiwen stripped off their spider silk and stuffed their clothes into their dollpack.

Daiwen sat on the dark stone of the plateau and spread their legs. They pulled the blood-stained silk out from their cunt. It hit the ground with a red splat.

Daiwen’s rubs and moans drew Baoyun and Zhurong closer. The giant spiders couldn’t speak, but it was clear they wanted to help with Daiwen’s plan.

Daiwen scuttled spider-like on their hands and feet under Zhurong. Their tongue parted the spider’s slit. Baoyun scuttled backward into Zhurong’s face, their anus over Zhurong’s mandibles and their stiffening dick over Daiwen’s cunt.

Daiwen lifted one hand off their clit. They grabbed the giant spider’s dick and pulled it down between their blooded lips.

Zhurong pushed Baoyun’s abdomen as they rimmed the other spider’s asshole. The wide, heavy curve forced Daiwen’s legs further apart, impaling them to the hilt under Baoyun’s dick.

Daiwen squeaked into Zhurong’s cunt. The knees of their splayed legs knocked against Baoyun’s hard abdomen. Their back arched, crushing their breasts against the curve. Their spasming cunt squelched blood and slick onto Baoyun’s dick.

Their public sex had drawn the attention of the nearest undead. Their eyeless faces turned away from the invisible sun. Four broke away from the army lines. They approached slow and curious.

Daiwen pushed up onto their forearms, sweaty and panting. As the only living human here, they would die if they tried to fuck the entire one-thousand-strong army. Baoyun and Zhurong, however, had the endless stamina of undeath on their side.

Daiwen’s aura flared purple-black. Daiwen set one hand on Zhurong’s closest leg and their foot on Baoyun’s closest. The flickering light of their aura spread flame-like over the two, wreathing the giant spiders in purple-black.

The spiders took the undead two at a time. Baoyun plowed their dick into one while the second reamed a porcelain smooth cock up Baoyun’s anus. Zhurong bounced on another such undead cock while sucking one off between their mandibles.

As the undead fell further and further into lust, purple-black light flickered and spread from the pleasure between their legs over their entire bodies. Their slit mouths opened to perfect circles in their eyeless faces. Purple-black burst from their mouths.

Ten more undead broke away from the army lines. The aura-wreathed spiders and soldiers each took two of the curious. When the undead came, they turned, purple-black blazing from their screaming mouths.

Fourteen had turned. Nine hundred and eighty six remained. Thirty-two curious undead broke rank.

Daiwen dressed and watched as their black-purple light cut a moaning swathe through the undead’s white forces. They gave the fucking, grinding bodies a wide berth and made their way to the weaver at the spinning wheel. Though the wheel never stopped turning, it had slowed considerably.

“I never thought I’d see the day someone fucked their way out of the bone gate.”

“I’ve had to fuck my way out of every--wait, are you saying there’s another way to undo the song?”

“Far less interesting ways, yes.”

The weaver...was right. It was interesting to watch an entire undead army boning each other back to normal. Ish.

“We’ve brightened up your day--”

“Eternity.”

“--eternity, sorry. Is there anything you can trade to brighten ours?”

The wheel turned and turned. It slowed. The weaver extended one hand, a fine silver thread tweezed between their calloused fingers.

“The bone gate will take you to a labyrinth from which few ever return. Tie this thread to your finger, and you will be sure to find your way home.”

“Thank you, spirit.”

“No, thank you. Now please, let me go back to enjoying the show.”

Daiwen did, tying the thread to their little finger. If only this were truly all they needed to get home. Then again, Huoshenmen had a point. They didn’t have much of a home to return to.

It’d be just as well if they died saving the countess or killing the Godlich. At least they would’ve died doing something right, something to make others see them as something more than a ‘fucking necromancer.’

Daiwen spat the bitter taste from their mouth. It didn’t bear thinking about. Their purple-black forces had fucked their way through the entire army. It was time to be a fucking hero.


	38. Heaven Trembles, Earth Freezes

Chapter 38: Heaven Trembles, Earth Freezes (天寒地凍)

Daiwen stepped out from the bone gate. Frost crunched under their soft boot. A dry, icy wind as sharp as a knife cut through the thin layers of their spider silks and straight to the bone. 

They stood on a winding, narrow path hewn into the side of a mountain. The open side of the path dropped away into a deep gorge separating the Yousi Mountains from the Mingdao Wood. Dusk had already fallen over the peaks, trailing a darkness behind the drifting clouds. The full orb of Spidermoon hung heavy in the evening sky, almost threatening to fall out like a world-crushing ping pong ball.

Daiwen climbed back onto Zhurong and let the giant spider handle the slippery, mountainside trail. It turned out to be a better idea than they’d expected after hearing several of their soldiers scuffling and falling down into the gorge behind them. 

They turned back to see that the cold, cutting air had frozen the newly un-fleshed skeleton’s bleeding eye sockets. Red ice now sat in chunks in the holes in their skull. The farther they walked up the mountain, the farther the red ice pushed out from their hollow faces.

At the trail’s end, a huge pair of doors as tall as three humans standing on top of each other bulged out from the face of the mountain itself. Frost crystals hung from every inch of it. Baoyun’s forelegs punched at the hinges and door crack, smashing the crystals to smithereens.

The doors had no hinges. It bulged seamlessly out of the mountain. The crack between the doors wasn’t perfectly straight. It didn’t even fully extend to the top and bottom of the doors, instead hanging between them like some kind of slit in the mountain’s...mound…

“Right. I think I know how to open the door to the labyrinth. Baoyun, no more punching please, but could you get all the ice crystals off?”

The giant spider raised their forelegs straight up at the joint. They swished them left and right, wiping the crystals off from the top of the door to the base. The doors were the same lavender-gray as the mountain, but the spider’s brushing left them slightly rosier than the surrounding stone.

“Wait, keep brushing. Go up, see if you can find the door’s, ah, clit.”

Baoyun climbed up and over the mound to the snowy base of the mountain’s peak. Daiwen climbed down from Zhurong and met the spider’s eight eyes.

“Can you take over for Baoyun? Just keep brushing.”

Zhurong just kept brushing, working the door mound from the base to the top and back down. They brushed all around Daiwen, who stood before the door’s slit.

Daiwen took a deep, bracing breath and placed the bare skin of their palm against the stone. It was as cold as abandoned bathwater, but no longer completely frigid. They leaned in and set their tongue against the slit.

The mountain trembled. Daiwen’s feet slipped on the frosty path. Their tongue stuck. They screamed. The top skin of their tongue ripped off the muscle. A small, bloody patch remained stuck to the stone.

Daiwen’s eyes pricked with hot tears, but they didn’t dare blink them out in this cold. Not with the icicles popping out from their soldiers’s eyes. They huffed and pushed up to their feet, dripping red over the frost.

Zhurong’s brushing left the door much rosier than before, but it was already evening. They didn’t have a second to waste.

“Baoyun! Take me up please!”

The spider dropped a silk swing of the side. Daiwen set their foot in the seat and grabbed the ropes. Baoyun hauled them up to the snowdrifts.

Baoyun had cleared the snow around short stone peg about the size of a stool. Daiwen placed a hand on the top of the peg. It was definitely cold enough to rip another swatch of skin off their tongue. They turned to the undead spider.

“We need to warm it up. Could you…?” they waved their hands around their mouth.

Baoyun took the peg between their mandibles, rubbing furiously with their forelegs. The mountain rumbled underfoot, knocking Daiwen over into a snowdrift. The peg’s rosy color deepened.

“Ok, I know it’s cold--sorry about this--could you sit on it? I mean...take it up your anus?”

Baoyun sat, the stone peg pushing deep into their stretched anus. However cold it was inside the undead spider, it had to be colder out here. The door just needed a clit sock to keep off the wind and keep in the heat while Zhurong worked the slit.

Daiwen slid down the silk rope to Zhurong. The door had become a deep pink color. The slit had widened, the lips pulling slightly apart. A darker, brighter pink layer shone from within.

Daiwen reached between the lips. Their hand met...if not skin, then flesh. Soft and warm. Daiwen licked their palms and rubbed the skin.

The mountain trembled. A line of slick dripped down the bright pink flesh. Daiwen fell in between the stone lips with a yelp.

The flesh squelched and gave under them. Daiwen’s knee went through a hole in the doorcunt.

“Yes! Zhurong, Baoyun, keep it up, please! Everyone else, follow me!”

Daiwen got down on all fours and squeezed into the tight little hole in the doorcunt. The fleshy walls of the shaft squeezed down around Daiwen, keeping them down on their knees. Clear slick leaked from the bright pink buds lining the heavy flesh, seeping into Daiwen’s clothes, oozing down their skin and hair.

At least it was warm. But as the slick pooled under Daiwen, their hands and knees began to slide in the pulsing shaft.

The walls spasmed. They clamped down around Daiwen, crushing their arms and legs together under them. A distant chant vibrated through the slick-spurting flesh straight through Daiwen’s back:

“I saw my lich-ey, crying hard as lich could cry  
What could I do?”

The walls shuddered and gave. Daiwen’s hands and knees slipped out from under them. They smacked face-first into the thick, quivering wall. The chant vibrated in through the side of their skull:

“I saw my lich-ey, trying hard as lich could try  
What could I do? ”

Daiwen spat slick and dragged themself to the winking hole at the end of the fleshy tunnel. The shaft opened up into a huge, soaring chamber of domed pink walls. Holes winked open and shut all over the dome without any rhyme or reason like a hundred hungry mouths.

There under the mostly central eye of the pink dome, dozens upon dozens of hooded figures in black robes kneeled in linked circles. All stood as Daiwen pushed up to their feet, slick puddling under them.

“Intruder!” they shouted, pointing.

“Intruders,” Daiwen spat.

The hole behind them winked open. Hundreds upon hundreds of the red-eyed skeleton soldiers scrambled out from the hole up the walls and across the chamber floor.

The cultists of the Whispering Way screamed words of magic. Bolts of lightning, rays of frost, and arcs of fire shot out from their palms. 

Lightning-blasted skeletons fell from the walls, writhing. Frozen skeletons shattered against the chamber floor--harder than it looked. Flaming skeletons continued to attack, much to the fatal dismay of the cultists.

As soon as the lightning dissipated, the writhing skeletons got back to their feet, clawing at the cultists. The shattered pieces of the skeletons rolled back into place. No wonder people worshipped undeath.

Daiwen kept their head down and pressed themself close to the wall. As they scooted around at the farthest edge of the massacre, they followed the chant vibrating into their ear:

“What kind of magic spell to use?“

The chant got louder as they neared one of the winking holes. Daiwen crawled through without looking back.

The fleshy tunnel was no different than the doorcunt’s shaft, trembling, clenching, and dripping slick all over Daiwen as they inched forward on their belly. But here and there, another hole would wink open and closed along a wall. Daiwen had to wait beside each one, listening for the chant:

“Then lich-ey said:  
Dance magic, dance.”

They followed hole into hole, shaft into shaft:

“Jump magic, jump.”

Finally, finally, the sound grew not only loud but as clear as a voice on stage. Daiwen dragged themself, squelching in slick, through a teeny, tiny hole barely the wider than their own head. They collapsed onto a hard, pink floor with a wet smack.

Overhead, metal chains hung from the domed ceiling. Shelves of glass and metal lined the fleshy walls. They’d been packed with waterproofed tomes and bottles of every shape and size, each holding some colorful but unknown liquid. Glass and metal tables filled the chamber’s wide space and blocked Daiwen’s view from the floor.

As they stood, a cultist dressed in all white wearing large glass goggles drew their gaze across the room. The cultist danced around what sounded like a rattling cage draped under a black curtain. They circled the cage and sang:

“Dance magic, dance  
Dance magic--”

The cultist’s eyes met Daiwen.

“You remind me of the lich.”

“It’s more likely than you think. Look, I’m here for the countess. Let her go, please.”

“Or what?”

Fuck. They really should’ve brought backup.

“I dragged the undead army of the Godlich themself into your vagina fortress. They’re not gonna be happy to find her sacrificed--”

“Sacrificed? What kind of barbarian do you take me for?”

“You’re not trying to bring back the Godlich?”

“No, we are but--here, take a seat. It’s time to witness the marvels of magic science.”

Daiwen grit their teeth, hands curling to fists on the straps of their dollpack, but they sat on the cultist’s stool as directed. The cultist turned the handle of a chain. Up went the curtain.

A giant Countess Gao kneeled within the huge cage. Metal cuffs locked their wrists to the bars overhead and their ankles to the bars below. Half their hair had fallen off their body to the floor, as had most of their skin. 

Their eyes were hollow sockets, the balls having rolled through the bars. Their dripping flesh had just begun to peel off the bone in winglike droops of meat. The transforming countess opened their lipless mouth but could only manage a dry rasp.

“You’re too late. The countess will become the Godlich at the end of the hour, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”

The cultist was right. They didn’t have the magic to undo a goddamned transformation. The last time they’d come across someone so transformed, it’d been Priest Ku, who’d only been saved by the grace of… 

This was Deep Dweller magic. The Whispering Way had traded the idol of Dagong to the Deep Dwellers in exchange for this spell. Everything else had just been ingredients.

“Dagong? Can you hear me?” Daiwen muttered under their breath.

The cultist continued to admire their work decaying before their very eyes. There was no response from the god.

One strap of the dollpack squeezed out of Daiwen’s grasp. The mouth buttons popped softy out from their buttonholes. The doll reached their arm down their gullet. They drew out Priest Ku’s missing holy symbol.

Not missing. Stolen.

Daiwen took the wooden disk from the doll and held it behind their back.

“Dagong? Please, I need you just one last time.”

The cultist turned back over their shoulder.

“Sorry, what was that?”

Daiwen’s aura flared a ghostly purple-black.


	39. The Medicine You've Been Looking For

Chapter 39: The Medicine You’ve Been Looking For (對症下藥)

The cultist gaped at Daiwen.

“What the f--”

“Go get backup.”

They snorted indignantly and backed away as fast as they could, rattling bottles and metal holders as they bumped into tables.

“Oh, I will! You stay here and don’t touch anything. Prepare to be forcibly expelled!”

“I will.”

The pink wall’s doorhole winked open. The cultist dived through and crawled away, leaving the glowing Daiwen with the decaying countess. Daiwen reached through the bars of the cage and placed a hand on the countess’s muscle-peeling leg.

“Countess Gao, it’s Daiwen. Can you hear me?”

The countess’s ears had long since dropped off the sides of her skull, but she nodded her enlarged head. The flesh drooping off her face jiggled and flapped along.

“Will you let me transform you back?”

Countess Gao nodded even more vigorously, her wings of flesh flapping like they wanted to fly away. Dry sobs rasped out from her lipless mouth.

“Hang in there. Let’s see if I can make this quick.”

The bars of the cage were close enough to hold the enlarged countess, roughly the size of Rubi the giant squid. But they were far enough apart that the human cultists could squeeze between the bars.

Daiwen squeezed into the cage. There was definitely magic at work, because they stepped right into a cloud of freezing air that reeked of death. Daiwen shivered and clamped their hands over their mouth to keep from retching right onto the countess.

Daiwen breathed through their mouth and set Dagong’s holy symbol on the floor. Daiwen stripped off their spider silk. A single drop of blood ran down the line of their bare leg. 

Their period was almost over. Almost. This could still get messy. Daiwen tossed their clothes through the bar to their dollpack. The doll stuffed them down their still-unbuttoned gullet.

Daiwen sank to their knees. They rolled onto their back and scooted between the countess’s knees. Countess Gao’s mound squelched and shifted over her pubic bone as Daiwen tongued her clit.

Daiwen did their best to keep breathing through their mouth, but they couldn’t tongue or suck hard enough. As they pressed two fingers to Countess Gao’s rotting mouth, Daiwen let out the last of their breath. Their tongue wrapped around the countess’s clit. Daiwen sucked and inhaled.

The stench was worse than wet shit in the sun. Daiwen coughed and choked on the noxious fumes stabbing straight up their nose and throat. Their head bounced against the countess’s squelching, shifting mound--their lips grinding to the bone.

The hacking coughs stabbed their fingers through the countess’s swollen, discolored lips. They impaled Countess Gao’s shaft to the last knuckle.

The countess took it with barely a rasping grunt. The transformation had left them so large that they could easily take Daiwen’s fist. So Daiwen took their mouth off Countess Gao’s clit, held their breath, and plunged their fist elbow deep up the countess’s shaft.

Countess Gao rasped out an ear-stabbing shriek. Their walls, more muck than flesh, hungrily swallowed up Daiwen’s arm. They pulled Daiwen bicep deep into the rotting countess.

Countess Gao mewled and writhed over Daiwen, her metal cuffs against the bars of the cage. But the ghostly light of Dagong hadn’t yet reached her.

Daiwen had one arm left. If they stuck it up the countess’s shaft, their head would be completely trapped under her. There’d be nowhere to run from the stench of death. If the countess completed the transformation, however, she’d bring that stench to every corner of the Spirit Realm.

Daiwen shoved their one free arm up the countess’s anus. The semi-solid shaft sucked them up to the bicep.

Countess Gao shrieked. Her stuffed shafts clamped wet and gluey to Daiwen’s arms. They convulsed around their arms. The hungry shafts swallowed Daiwen to the armpits, yanking Daiwen face-first into the countess’s crotch.

Daiwen screamed into rotting, drooping flesh. Their scream choked off with a violent, hacking cough. Vomit pounded the back of their throat, threatening to burst.

A thick wad of fatty flesh dropped wet and heavy into Daiwen’s coughing mouth. The taste was worse than the smell, a wet rot that plunged like a burning knife up Daiwen’s nose and down their throat.

Their vision blurred with hot tears. Snot ran in rivers from their tortured nose. The countess’s fallen mound slipped down Daiwen’s tongue into their throat. Daiwen scream went straight to a strangled wheeze.

The countess’s body wracked over Daiwen. Her back arched, flapping a dozen drooping flesh wings. Her head dropped back with a shrieking rasp. Countess Gao flared with ghostly purple-black flames.

Rotting flesh sloughed off in thick, heavy rings. They hit the ground in linked splatters. The semi-solid flesh burned to gray ash in the ghostly, purple-black flames.

The fleshy muck landed right on Daiwen, splattering them from chest to face. The gluey shafts holding their arms over their head had bottomed out in the fall. As the wet rot burnt away, they tugged their arms out of the shrinking countess.

Daiwen scrambled onto their knees. They grabbed the bars of the cage and heaved and retched out into the lab. The fleshy mound in their mouth splattered and burnt away before they could recognize it, thankfully.

Countess Gao murmured behind them, eyes closed. She stood up off the ground, blazing with Dagong’s divine aura. The ashes whirled around her naked body like snow in a blizzard and piled under her feet.

The ghostly aura faded. The countess fell back. She landed on the soft ash drift with a poof of gray. Daiwen crawled beside her and shook her shoulder.

“Countess Gao? Are you alright?”

“Five more minutes,” she yawned.

“Do you even remember where you are?”

The countess jerked straight up to sitting, eyes wide open.

“Is this not a really fucking bizarro nightmare?”

“It’s all real.”

The countess opened her mouth. She screamed. She ran, screaming, to the bars of the cage, shaking them and shaking them. She screamed until her voice choked out but continued to shake the cage.

Daiwen walked up beside her. They held their hands where she could see them and placed one slowly onto the countess’s shoulder. Her entire body trembled like a leaf.

“Let’s get out of here,” Daiwen said gently.

“There’s no way out,” Countess Gao rasped. “This place is a fu-fucking maze.”

Daiwen held up their little finger. The fine silver thread from the weaver shone in the light. Its ethereal line ran from Daiwen’s finger through the pink hole in the wall.

“There’s always a way out. Come on, let’s get you home.”

The countess gave Daiwen a quick, trembling hug, and then let them dress.

They followed the weaver’s line through the wet, cramped, and twisting tunnels back to the central chamber. There wasn’t a single living cultist left in the room.

The skeleton soldiers, in various states of cracked, burned, and broken bones, piled the cultists’s black-robed bodies at the center of the chamber. They’d stacked them in a pyramid pyre formation, but it was already well into the evening.

They didn’t have time to witness a funeral pyre. Daiwen rifled through their dollpack. They didn’t even have anything to start a funeral pyre.

Daiwen grabbed three robes off the bodies and handed them off to the naked countess. The mountain path outside was short, but it had to be even colder now that the sun had been down for a little over two hours. As soon as Countess Gao put them all on, Daiwen led her and the undead army out of there.

“Zhurong! Baoyun!” the countess burst into smiles and tears.

Fuck.

“Countess, they didn’t survive.”

“What are you talking about? They’re right here,” she stammered, teeth chattering.

“Thanks to necromancy,” Daiwen chattered back.

The giant spiders pried themselves off the doorcunt and clit. They scuttled over with the endless stamina of the undead.

The countess shook her head. The tears turned to lines of crystal frost down her cheeks.

“No. No. No, no, no--”

“As soon as we get back, I’m gonna have to let them go.”

“How dare you! How fucking dare you!”

“They can’t stay like this! Don’t you know why people hate necromancy? It steals qi. Right now, you’re the last living person here. Your guards and this entire army is burning up your lifespan just to be here.”

“Oh. No, I didn’t know that. What the fuck. Do we need all this to get back?”

“Your spiders, at least.”

“Fine. Leave the spiders but get rid of the others.”

“They’re your ancestor’s loyal--”

“I’m freezing my ass off. Do it so they’ll stop eating my goddamn qi, and let’s get out of here.”

Daiwen looked back over the thousand soldiers. They placed their hands together as though in prayer and bowed to the undead.

“Thank you for your service.”

The skeletons dropped in a waved of clattering bones. Without any power to hold them, the icy winds blew several off the mountainside. Daiwen and the countess climbed onto Baoyun and Zhurong. They rode down to the bone gate, Daiwen blinking hard.

\--/--

Countess Gao led them back to the Gao Estate through an underground tunnel. Neither of them were in the mood to pass through Kailian City right now. As soon as they reached the crypt, the countess stopped them and dismounted.

Daiwen followed suit. They said nothing as the countess ran her hands over Zhurong and Baoyun’s eight-eyed faces. Countess Gao gave a single sniff and jerked a nod at Daiwen when it was time.

Daiwen placed their hands together.

“Wait! Wait til I leave.”

The countess strode past Daiwen up the stone stairs. Daiwen waited until the last footstep and muffled sob had faded from the stone stairwell.

“Thank you for your service.”

The giant spiders dropped where they stood. The last of Countex Gao’s black vanished from Daiwen’s aura. Though the spirit must’ve returned to their rest, a leaden weight remained in Daiwen’s chest.

They plodded up the stairs. They had an hour before midnight. They took their time wandering through the silent halls to the countess’s bathroom.

There was the mirror that lined an entire wall. Other than its size, it looked no different from any other mirror in the manor.

Daiwen drew a bath in the porcelain tub laid into the bathroom floor. It was large as a small pond. The dirt drifted off them in rings, discoloring the bubbles. When they drained the tub, the dirt remained in a gritty layer across the bottom.

They had five minutes until midnight. It wasn’t enough time to clean the tub. It wasn’t enough time to run through the house to say goodbye to the countess. Then again, Daiwen didn’t feel like saying goodbye.

Here was the final door, but all they felt was weight. Daiwen shrugged on their clothes and dollpack. They avoided their own eyes and stepped through the mirror.


	40. Life Is but a Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading along with this zany sexventure! I hope it's been as fun for you to read as it has for me to write!

Chapter 40: Life is But a Dream (人生如夢)

The mirror flowed and parted around Daiwen like a silver skin of water. Metal clanked under their foot. They stood on one landing of a tower of floating stairs that climbed in impossible directions. Huge metal gears clicked and ticked with the eerie softness of a clock’s second hand throughout the center of the tower. There were no walls on the outside of the tower, only a silver haze rolling in and out through the gears and stairs like a glimmering tidal fog.

A whispering voice cut through the fog.

“You’ve run so long...so far.”

Daiwen crouched at the rail-less edge of the landing. They could see nothing through the gears and silver mist. But silk and bamboo slat fluttered at the corner of their eye.

A guardian spirit floated up and around the far edge of the landing in a single step. Their boots shushed against the metal like a scrubbing cloth.

“Daiwen. Daiwen,” they rasped.

This guardian didn’t wear half a skull for a helm. Instead, they wore a porcelain mask, smooth and unmarked. Daiwen narrowed their eyes, but before they could speak, the spirit continued in a sing-song voice.

“Your eyes can be so cruel. Just as I can be so cruel.”

“You know who I am and why I’m here. So what do you want from me, spirit?”

“Oh, I do believe in you. Yes, I do.”

The guardian’s mask rippled. The porcelain softened and molded to a true face over the spirit’s skull. Daiwen’s face. The spirit opened Daiwen’s own black eyes and smiled at them.

Daiwen reached out instinctively. They stopped just short of touching the spirit’s borrowed face. 

The guardian laid their hand over Daiwen’s and guided it to the softness of their cheek. They leaned the side of their face into Daiwen’s hand.

A flush spread from Daiwen’s chest to the tips of their ears. The spirit bent and scooped Daiwen up in their arms. They carried them up the stairs only to step off the flight midway.

Daiwen swallowed a yelp as the wind whipped their hair. They gripped the guardian’s shoulders with white knuckles. 

The spirit landed with the softest shush of boots onto a heavy metal gear as large as a room. They crouched, letting Daiwen off on their knees.

Daiwen caught the guardian’s hand. It was a perfect copy of Daiwen’s hand, crafted in skin-soft porcelain. The two leaned into a tongue-sucking kiss. They stripped the clothes off each other’s backs.

The spirit looked exactly like Daiwen under the armor, only the character for ‘metal’ (金) had been inked in silvery gray on their porcelain chest. Fluid glyphs ran out from ‘metal’ and wrapped around the arms and legs Daiwen knew so well.

The spirit dropped their head between Daiwen’s thighs. They knew exactly where Daiwen needed their lips, their tongue, their fingers.

Daiwen moaned and braced their hands against the guardian’s naked back. Their fingers dug into the guardian’s false flesh just to stay upright. They gasped and writhed over the guardian’s mouth as they came with the lancing orgasm of raw masturbation.

“More, more, I need more,” they begged.

The spirit raised their head and kissed Daiwen with the taste of their own slick. There was still the slightest metal tang of blood.

Daiwen and the spirit held each other around the waists. They fell to their sides onto the slow-turning gear. Their free hands dropped to finger the other’s cunt. The more the guardian teased their expert tough, the harder Daiwen bucked into the shape of their own mound.

The spirit grabbed Daiwen’s wrists. They scissored their legs between Daiwen’s and pulled their arms straight. Their cunts locked and ground into the other’s slit.

Daiwen screamed and jerked on their side. With their arms and legs locked in the guardian’s, they only ground deeper into the hard edge of their own pubic bone.

The guardian kept them trapped in an iron grip as Daiwen wracked with orgasm after orgasm between their familiar legs. Drool ran from Daiwen’s moaning mouth as slick leaked like piss from between their rigid, twitching legs. 

The guardian only let them go when Daiwen slumped against the gear, a heap of quivering flesh. The spirit gently pulled away and laid them flat.

Daiwen watched as though from above their own collapsed body as the spirit gathered their clothes and folded them at their side. Daiwen tried to thank the spirit, but all the words had been fucked from their consciousness. They babbled senselessly.

The guardian smiled with Daiwen’s face and put their armor back on. With each piece, the features faded from the porcelain until only the smooth, blank mask remained.

The spirit kneeled at Daiwen’s side.

“The priest is waiting,” they rasped, their voice barely louder than the ticking clockwork.

Daiwen closed their eyes. Of course. Of course the priest would be here at the end of it all.

They sighed and struggled up to their hands and knees. The guardian helped them dress, now a stranger intimately familiar with Daiwen’s every curve and quirk. 

They helped Daiwen to their feet and handed them their dollpack. Daiwen took the doll in their arms like a small child.

“I’m ready.”

The guardian led Daiwen back onto the stairs and up to the ticking top of the tower. Its roof was a porcelain clockface, its numbers inscribed in pure gold. A minute and hour hand of jade, each as long and as bright green as bamboo, floated overhead where the silver mist opened up to an ocean of stars in blackest night.

The priest of Bashi Temple sat at the center of the clockface. They leaned back on their hands, looking up at the stars. Daiwen sat down beside them and gazed up at the moonless sky.

“Is it you? Are you the Sleeping God?”

“No. I’ve already Awoken. I’m the God of Creating Gods.”

“Does that mean...I am the Sleeping God?”

“You could be, if you wanted to. Shenmen has been in a shortage of patron gods--that’s on me.”

The last god they’d created had been Dagong. That had been millennia ago, so long that even the citizens of Bingchi Town had forgotten their own patron god. The priest laughed and shook their head, their smile wistful.

“So I leave the choice to you: will you stay or will you go now?”

Daiwen smiled but their eyes never left the stars. For the first time in a very long time, they had all the time in the world.


End file.
